


This Time Tomorrow

by CourageInImmensity



Category: One Tree Hill
Genre: Accident, Death, F/M, Family, Gen, Hospital, Loss, Love, Miscarriage, OTH - Freeform, One Tree Hill - Freeform, Sad, Tragedy, car crash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 55,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23206348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourageInImmensity/pseuds/CourageInImmensity
Summary: Set 2 years after season 9. On Logan's 8th birthday, Clay and Quinn shock him with news of a baby brother or sister and he doesn't take it well. When the dream shatters, the family must pull together more than ever and pray for better luck next time. Meanwhile, Katie Ryan's sister and 8-year-old nephew find themselves on a mission to escape an abusive household. OC's loosely based on Nicholas Sparks' Safe Haven.
Relationships: Clay Evans/Quinn James, Clay Evans/Sara Evans, Haley James Scott/Nathan Scott
Kudos: 3





	1. The Birthday Surprise

"You're doing it again." Nathan Scott leaned against the kitchen counter with a knowing smirk, watching his wife slam the oven door shut before she turned to face him with a sheepish expression. "The cake smells incredible, babe. Just focus on that, okay?"

"I wish I could." Haley groaned and stripped off her oven gloves, her gaze darting restlessly to the staircase just visible from the open kitchen area. "The older Jamie gets, the weirder it is to think of him alone with a girl. Even if it is Madison and this has been inevitable for years." With a resigned sigh, she allowed Nathan to pull her closer to him and nuzzled affectionately against his chest. "You're going to tell me I'm acting ridiculous, aren't you?"

"Completely." He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose; "He's twelve years old you dork, this is just the beginning. Besides, we like Madison, remember?" He gestured in the direction of the oven, radiating warmth into the room. "Now focus, alright? Quinn is counting on you to make Logan a nice birthday cake, after all."

"I hope she's okay." Haley frowned thoughtfully; "This bug is lasting a long time. If I didn't know better, I'd say she could be knocked up."

"Could well be," Nathan shuddered at the very idea; "It's still so weird to think of Clay and your sister that way."

"They've been married for two years, honey," Haley reminded him with an exasperated eye-roll. "Get over it!"

"I didn't say that would be a bad thing," he retorted; "Just strange to imagine, all I'm saying. They deserve it if you ask me."

"They more than deserve it." Haley nodded fervently, turning away after a quick peck to his cheek as the oven's timer pinged. "Ooh, Quinnie definitely can't complain about this slice of heaven," she said appreciatively, sliding the delicious-smelling cake onto a platter. When Nathan tried to steal a sneaky taste of her frosting, Haley swatted his hand away firmly; "No touching! Just get the door, please." Haley began to spread chocolate icing thickly on the cake as her husband wandered off obediently; shaking his head at the power she had over him. "Who is it, babe?" Haley called curiously over her shoulder.

"Either someone is a serious eager beaver, or there's something very wrong here," he replied grimly, and Haley frowned at his serious tone and turned around. Just visible from the kitchen area, Nathan stood near the front door with eight-year-old Logan clinging to him desperately. "I'd go with the latter," he murmured, patting the little boy awkwardly on the back. "What's going on, kid? Birthday boys don't normally look so miserable on their big day."

Haley wiped her hands of chocolate icing quickly and joined them just in time to hear Logan's dramatic exclamation; "Mom and Dad are replacing me! That's what's going on."

Nathan exchanged a perplexed look with his wife as she braced her hands comfortingly on the little boy's shoulders; "What on earth are you talking about, sweetie?" She knelt in front of Logan to be level with his distressed hazel eyes, just as Nathan's cell phone rang out shrilly from the surface of the kitchen counter.

Leaving the birthday boy tearfully explaining his dilemma to Haley, Nathan answered it to find Clay equally frantic on the other end of the line. "Is Logan with you?" he demanded, without wasting time with a greeting.

"Calm down, he's here," Nathan told him reassuringly and heard an instant sigh of relief. "Dude, what the hell is going on?"

"Haley may well have figured this out already," said Clay, sounding much happier in the knowledge that Logan was safe. "Quinn's pregnant!"

"My wife is psychic," Nathan murmured in awe. "She totally called it. Isn't that a good thing, though? What's up with Logan? How did this happen?"

"Well Nate, when a man and a woman love each other…," Clay started teasingly, and Nathan shuddered involuntarily.

"Finish that sentence, and I'm never speaking to you again," he said firmly. His gaze wandered to the foot of the staircase to the upper floor, where Haley was now sitting with Logan perched on her lap, attempting to console him. "I'm serious Clay; the kid is a wreck! How did Quinn break the news?"

"She gift-wrapped her positive pregnancy test," he said. "We gave Logan his presents this morning, and I guess she figured I'd like a more permanent present too. Today would have been one of the happiest days of my life if Logan hadn't completely freaked out."

"Well I'm glad to hear that for whatever it's worth," Nathan replied. "How's Quinn holding up?"

"At least now there's a reason she's stuck in the bathroom so much, poor thing," Clay laughed. "I can take care of her; it's Logan that I'm worried about right now."

"Don't worry about it, Jamie's always been able to get through to him. We'll get to the bottom of what's bothering him about this situation, okay? Are you guys still coming by for cake later? Haley's very proud of how it turned out," he added temptingly.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Clay promised. "Tell Jamie thanks, would you? See you later; I owe you one."

"It's in the family job description, buddy. See you around; Logan will be here, alright?"

"Good…we'll see you in a bit," Clay sighed and hung up, just in time for a wail from Lydia's playpen to grab Nathan's attention. He motioned to a startled Haley not to push Logan away right now and went to pick up the three-year-old himself.

Lydia was pressed up against one wall of the square pen set up in the living room with tears streaming down her face. "What's wrong, princess?" Nathan asked, offering the toddler his hand soothingly.

"Spider," Lydia whimpered, pointing at the blanket lying in a crumpled heap at the other end of the pen with a quivering finger. Then she quickly stuck her thumb in her mouth and let Nathan lift her out of the confined space.

"You're bigger than any silly spider, baby girl," he said encouragingly. "Don't be scared, okay?" She leaned against his shoulder, still sucking her thumb hard. "Besides, we have company," Nathan added with a grin as Lydia lifted her head curiously when he came to a halt at the staircase where Haley and Logan were still sitting.

"Wolfy," she squealed, clapping her hands enthusiastically and Logan sidled away from Haley so Nathan could deposit the toddler on his lap.

"Hi Lydia," he said softly, grinning in spite of himself when she decided his fingers were more fun to suck on than her own. "For the last time, it's Wolverine!"

"Wolfy," Lydia insisted, and Haley laughed and reached over to tickle her tummy.

"You see this?" she said triumphantly to Logan. "You're a natural big brother, why so worried? This one adores you."

Logan shook his head with a slight frown; "It's not the same thing, Aunt Haley," he stressed. "Jamie's an awesome big brother, but his Dad never left him the way mine did. What if Mom and Dad like the new baby better?" He squeezed Lydia's tiny hand with a sad smile; "But I do love this cutie too," he added affectionately.

"You should talk to Jamie, kiddo," Haley advised, taking Lydia from him again as she began to nod sleepily. "He's upstairs with Madison, perfect excuse to make sure he's behaving himself up there," she hinted strongly. "Does that sound like a plan?"

"I do love spy missions," Logan grinned. "You can count on me, Aunt Haley," he promised and started up the stairs with a quick salute. Haley nodded proudly after him; she already knew that even better than the boy himself did.

Jamie's bedroom door was ajar when Logan reached it, with a very mournful film score sounding from beyond it. He knocked gently and pushed it open to find Madison Landry pressing her face against Jamie's shoulder. "I hate this part," she whimpered, and Logan glanced at the paused movie to see a frozen shot of a man being knocked backwards through an archway by a flash of green light.

"Bellatrix is such a bitch," Jamie grumbled, shaking his head. "It's a good thing we have chocolate, right?" He snapped one of the candy bars lying between them on his bed in half. "Keeps at least Dementors away, you know."

"Yeah." The girl smiled as he popped a piece of the chocolate into her mouth. "That was a perfect snack idea; chocolate fixes everything." She leaned over and shyly touched his hand, which Logan decided was his cue to interrupt the increasing intimacy of the moment.

"Jamie, do you have a minute?" he asked hesitantly. "Or are you too busy swearing at the movie bad guy?"

His cousin whipped around and went red in the face; "In this case, it's bad girl, actually, Wolverine," he corrected. "Which you would know if you would join the cool kids' table and get into Harry Potter already. Knock next time!"

Logan could tell he had embarrassed his cousin, but he was too wound up to care. "I did knock," he pointed out, unable to return Madison's sweet smile. "And hey, not my fault my Dad is obsessed with superheroes, it's rubbed off on me," he continued defensively. "Superpowers are totally as awesome as magic! Wolverine has healing powers, too cool."

"So do phoenix tears," Jamie shot back dismissively, but he was now smiling easily too. "Happy Birthday, by the way, little man. What are you doing here already? It can't be cake time yet, you addict."

His cousin's tone was light and teasing, but Logan bit his lip nervously and looked down at his feet; "Um…no actually, Mom and Dad kind of had a shocker birthday surprise for me this morning. I just need some big brother action, I guess," he sighed at the visible sympathy in Madison's eyes at his obvious distress. "You can stay," he added hastily to her when the girl slid off Jamie's bed and snapped off the television. "Maybe I'm over-reacting, actually. I mean, all normal families go through this eventually."

"What are you on about, Wolverine?" Jamie pressed impatiently.

Madison gave his arm a light, reproachful punch; "Don't be mean, Jamie," she scolded. She picked up another one of the candy bars on the bed and offered it to Logan; "How about some candy courage? It sounds like you have a bombshell to share."

"Chocolate is awesome, thanks." Logan smiled shyly and took it from her outstretched hand. He peeled back the wrapper and took a big bite, bracing himself to say the terrifying words out loud. Jamie and Madison were both watching him with undisguised curiosity now, and their expectant expressions weren't making the confession any easier. "How did you find out you were going to be a big brother, Jamie?" he asked finally, it was a whole lot easier than getting to the root of his fears right away.

"Huh?" Jamie exchanged a confused look with Madison before turning a puzzled frown on the younger boy; "Well…my Dad was leaving for a basketball training camp, and just before he left, he told me to take extra special care of Mom. It turned out it was Mom and the baby I had to look out for, while he was gone," he recalled obligingly. "What's gotten into you, Wolverine? That was way random."

"Are your parents having another baby?" asked Madison carefully, a wild guess at the desperation in Logan's eyes. She glanced at Jamie; "I think he was hoping you would guess, Jamie," she grinned. "Tutor Son and all that, you're supposed to be smart."

Jamie rolled his eyes; "I know you like superheroes bud, but that's no reason to be so bloody cryptic," he complained. "Why is a baby brother or sister a bad thing anyway? That's awesome!"

"You said a swear." Logan sniffed half-heartedly, the tears were rolling freely now. Madison quickly gathered up the bars of chocolate spread out between her and Jamie on the bed and shoved them to one side.

Jamie hopped off the bed and pulled the trembling eight-year-old into the now vacant space; "I'm still confused," he confessed as Logan's head tilted against his shoulder. "I wasn't crazy about the idea of a new baby either when Mom and Dad told me, but you're acting a bit extreme here, Wolverine."

He glanced up at Madison and mouthed an apology, but she shook her head with a tiny smile. "I have a sister about your age," she told Logan, running her hand soothingly up and down his back. "Seven, is it?"

"Eight today," Logan mumbled, but the edge of pride had returned briefly to his choked voice. "I know this is silly," he sighed again. "I just…I'm scared they'll like the new baby better than me. My real Mommy is an angel in heaven, Grandma says," he continued. "And Dad stayed away for so long; it's just too much to think that could maybe happen again. I don't want this baby to replace me!"

There was a distinct hysterical edge to the rant spilling out of Logan's mouth now, and Jamie grimaced at the concern on Madison's face before grasping both his cousin's small hands firmly. "Hey, I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?" he said seriously and waited for the younger boy's shaky nod before carrying on. "Your Dad has been best friends with mine for like half my life," he said. "Not that I spent a lot of time thinking about this when I was seven, but everyone could see it."

"See what?" Logan pressed apprehensively.

"That he was a great agent, but he wasn't…happy," Jamie said decisively after searching for the best word to describe it for a moment. "I guess it was because of what happened to your Mommy. Things improved when my Dad became cool with Uncle Clay dating Aunt Quinn, but there was always something missing."

"Take a guess what that was," Madison interrupted, nudging the tearful eight-year-old gently.

Jamie smiled at her gratefully, but another voice cut in before Logan could respond; "If you seriously have to guess that, then I'm not doing my job right." The three kids turned to see Clay leaning in the doorway, traces of a worried frown still etched on his face. Madison edged surreptitiously closer to Jamie when Logan leapt up and charged into his father's arms. "Don't scare me like that, kiddo," he sighed, holding his son close while the eight-year-old mumbled apologies. Clay looked up to see his nephew watching the display of affection. "Is your girlfriend staying for cake, Jamie?" he teased while Logan continued to cling desperately.

"Uncle Clay!" Jamie protested with a deep blush. "Is that the thanks I get for talking my crazy cousin out of a nervous breakdown?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Logan chipped in when Clay frowned grimly again. "This is really cool…really."

"I love you, Wolverine, okay?" he said insistently. "All this baby is going to change is that you'll have a baby brother or sister who will need you to love and protect them. Like Jamie loves Lydia," he smiled at his nephew's proud grin and gave him a thumbs up. "Thanks, buddy, you did a good job on this one."

"No problem." Jamie pointedly took Madison's hand and pulled her to her feet. "Are you staying for cake, Maddie?" The Asian girl nodded eagerly, and Jamie beamed and led her out of his room and back down the stairs. On the way out he ruffled Logan's hair affectionately; "Where's your chocolate addiction now, knucklehead? The birthday boy can't be the last one to the table, that's just a fact," he laughed.

"In your dreams," Logan shot back and raced past the older two and down the stairs, his abandonment issues overshadowed by excitement at last. The three kids were soon out of sight, oblivious to Clay lingering on the landing, despairing at how Logan had reacted to this new chapter of their family's life.

**A / N My mission to keep Clinn alive in the fanfiction archives continues, enjoy everyone! xx**


	2. Days Go By Like Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Quinn's pregnancy progresses, Logan's paranoia and anxiety grows.

The next few weeks rolled by without any more major fits of paranoia on Logan's part and the end of November soon gave way to the coldest time of year. One frosty Monday morning, just days before Christmas, Clay awoke to the now accustomed sounds of violent retching coming from the master bathroom. Knowing Quinn hated drawing attention to her miserable bouts of nausea, he stretched luxuriously and sat up, waiting for her to emerge. Eventually, the toilet flush sounded, followed by the rush of tap water.

Clay shifted impatiently on the bed, exercising all his self-control not to get up and pounce as soon as she emerged. Finally, the bathroom door opened and Quinn stepped out onto the carpeted floor with a sigh. "Didn't get my slippers on in time today," she shuddered. "We seriously need to get that floor heating seen to…it's freezing in here!"

Clay just grinned widely; "Hmm, let's see if we can't do something about that incredibly serious problem, shall we? Get over here," he teased, holding out his hand to her temptingly.

Quinn absently pulled out the rubber band she had hastily used to make a messy ponytail and ruffled her hair before crossing over the bed. "Sorry I'm not pretty for you right now," she mumbled, leaning against his shoulder for a split second before deciding her toes were in greater need of some warmth. "This part of the experience is super gross."

"If that's your story," Clay replied coolly, scrambling after her with determination as she crawled into the middle of the bed and tucked her cold feet back under the hastily discarded sheets. "If you ask me, Polly has never looked more beautiful."

Quinn grimaced at him in confusion while Clay toyed affectionately with a loose strand of her hair. "Who the hell is Polly?"

"You are now Polly. The cracker diet dictates your new nickname. Polly want a cracker?" he asked in a mocking baby voice as if he was speaking to a pet parrot.

"Meanie," Quinn groaned, rolling her eyes half-heartedly as she grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at his head, her aim failing miserably. "Stop with the smirk; you're evil!"

"Did you brush your teeth again?" he asked, still grinning as he dodged the assault with ease and shifted closer to her once more.

"Obviously," she muttered. "Why?"

"So that I can do this without it being really gross," he breathed, closing the distance between them in one swoop to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "Here's to the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Quinn teased back; "Very smooth…only too bad there's no time for a quickie with my darling Sergio. See, my husband Clay has to go help his son get some breakfast before school."

"How sad," Clay sighed, clutching his heart dramatically. "I'm offended now. Just by the way, you mean our son," he corrected with another quick kiss before pulling back for good.

"Indeed I do," Quinn smiled. "Better hurry up, or he'll be late," she urged. "Polly will be right out for some super boring crackers, see you soon."

"Never soon enough," he insisted and turned reluctantly to go and wake Logan at last. Across the landing, his son was already sitting up in bed with a comic book propped open on his lap. Clay knocked on the door frame with a smile at the sight; "Hey Wolverine, ready for some breakfast? It is still a school day, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Logan said softly.

He put the comic aside but didn't look up, and Clay hesitantly entered the room and sat down at the foot of the bed; "What's on your mind, kid? You're too quiet. Is sticking with Jamie after school today going to be a problem?"

Logan chewed his lower lip in nervous silence for a moment and then shook his head. "That's not it," he said. "Is Mama Q okay? I heard her being sick again."

Clay smiled and gripped the little boy's shoulder comfortingly; "She's a human alarm clock every morning now," he laughed. "Don't worry kiddo; it's all part of having a baby. It's probably one of the grossest parts of the whole thing but nothing to worry about, okay? She'll be fine, I promise."

"Good," said Logan absently, but he didn't look any less worried as Clay pulled him up from the bed and led him down the stairs to the kitchen. The eight-year-old perched in thoughtful silence on one of the chairs around their breakfast table while Clay reached into the cupboard for his cereal.

"Grow some more then you'll be able to reach this yourself," he joked, placing the cereal carton and a bowl in front of the boy.

Logan helped himself without a word, only meeting Clay's gaze after he had downed the first bite. "Dad…you're gonna meet the new baby today, right?" he asked hesitantly.

"Kind of," Clay explained. "The baby is still growing you know, it's just going to be a picture right now. Why do you ask?"

Logan swallowed hard, and the spoon in his hand began to tremble dangerously; "I…um, can you promise you won't like the new baby better than me?" he begged desperately.

"What?" Clay grimaced. He sat down opposite the little boy and held onto both his shaking hands. "I thought you were becoming okay with this," he sighed. "Listen to me…you're not competing with this baby, okay?" He squeezed Logan's shaking hands once more and stood up; "Keep eating, you've got to be ready for school soon. I just need to get something to show you. I'll be right back, okay?"

Logan did as he asked with a reluctant nod and a few minutes later Clay joined him once more. He placed a photo frame delicately on the kitchen table and turned it so that the picture was facing his son. The eight-year-old leaned forward curiously and smiled in spite of himself; "Is that me?" he asked in amazement.

"You bet it is, you goof." Clay smiled fondly at the photograph. "Half the things and people in this photograph are gone forever. That armchair belonged to my Dad; your Mommy loved it almost more than me some days."

"Really?" Logan giggled and stared at the tiny bundle in Sara's arms in wonder. "I love how happy you look," he remarked; "Nana told me about the chair once actually. She said it was around when you were a baby, sounds crazy."

"Are you calling me ancient, bud?" Clay teased. "It was though, that chair survived many crazy times in my family. This picture," he said with a nod at the photograph; "was taken the day you came home from the hospital. Your Mommy and I couldn't stop staring at you for one minute," he swore solemnly. "You remember I told you how counting to two was my special thing with her?"

"Yeah," Logan nodded with a grin; the story of the college bridge jump was one of his all-time favorites.

"Well, I never told you this one," Clay continued. "You were even born on the count of two."

"No way," Logan gasped, and his eyes went adorably wide in awe. "That's so cool!"

"That can be your bedtime story for tonight if you want," Clay promised, as the little boy quickly drained the last of his milk from the bowl. "You better hurry and get dressed right now though, okay?"

"Fine." His son sighed reluctantly and almost collided with Quinn on his way back upstairs. "Oops, sorry Mom," he said quickly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not a paper doll, honey," she smiled. "All good, I promise." She gave him an affectionate squeeze then nudged him in the direction of the stairs. "Hurry up now, Jamie's going to be here to walk you to school any minute," she reminded him.

"Yes boss," Logan saluted with a grin and ran up the stairs.

"That's what I just said," Clay gasped in mock-despair, staring after the retreating eight-year-old.

"He likes me better," Quinn winked and stepped into his firm embrace with a contented sigh. But Clay didn't smile and then she noticed the photograph on the kitchen table; "Did I miss something?" she asked gently.

"He's still worried about us liking the new baby better," Clay explained with a heavy sigh. Quinn's loving gaze clouded with concern at his despairing tone. "He's seemed fine for weeks…I guess the milestones trigger this paranoia or something. Sorry about this," he said, gesturing vaguely at the photograph. "This is our big day, not the time to be thinking about ghosts," he smiled.

"Don't you dare apologize," she shot back firmly, smiling at the photograph in turn. "This is exactly the time to look back; you're so lucky to have experienced this miracle before." She looped her arms around his neck and drew close enough for a kiss. Before their lips collided she said with firm conviction; "Sara will always be the reason that amazing kid exists, you might want to remind him of that."

"I'm doing my best," he murmured, distracted by her proximity. "Do you have any idea how much I love you, Q?"

"Just a little hunch," she teased and finally crashed her lips against his. "As soon as Logan is out of here, Shutter Bug wants a date with Sergio," she demanded flirtatiously. "We have plenty of time before the doctor's appointment, and you can never resist that glittery superhero mask."

"I can when Shutter Bug is having my baby," he protested firmly. "I doubt that other boyfriend you always used to threaten to spend Valentine's Day with could have pulled that one off, all my hard work."

"Oh really, is that so?" Quinn raised her eyebrows with a skeptical grin. "The cockiness is a huge turn-on, Mr. Evans," she whispered in his ear. "Either cut it out or accept the fact that Shutter Bug is getting exactly what she wants very soon indeed."

"Don't bet on that, sweetheart," he said firmly. "Sergio might not be bothered about this baby, but Clay most definitely has priorities. My family comes before Shutter Bug's crazy urges, deal with it."

"You're a total meanie," Quinn groaned, rolling her eyes at him as she pulled out a fresh box of crackers from the cupboard with a disgusted grimace. "And I love you."

"I'm pretty sure that's the coffee deprivation talking, missy," he said knowingly, dropping kisses to her exposed shoulder blades while she struggled with the sealed box. "I love you, too."

"Saved by the bell," Quinn giggled at Clay's exasperated expression and shoved the box of crackers at him, as the doorbell clanged. "Get this open, would you? I'm starving," she complained and moved to answer the persistent doorbell. "Logan, Jamie's here!" Quinn yelled up the stairs as she pulled open the front door. "And Chuck," she added in surprise. "Quite an escort party, buddy," she grinned at Jamie's casual shrug. "Come in for a sec; Logan should be down in a minute." She returned her nephew's affectionate hug while Chuck looked on, rolling his eyes; "You'll take Logan home with you after school today, right?" she double-checked seriously. "Be nice, the doctor's appointment is freaking him out a bit."

"I'm always nice," Jamie protested good-naturedly. "Don't worry Aunt Quinn, he'll be okay," he promised. He grinned widely at her still flat stomach; "Good luck today, this is too cool. Are you nervous?"

"A little," Quinn admitted. "Any firsts are scary, that doesn't change no matter how old you get."

"Not that we're old," Clay cut in with a laugh, emerging from the kitchen at that moment. "Your crackers, madam," he said, handing Quinn the plate with a mocking bow. "Hey, kids."

"I remember that cracker eating competition we had in the hospital when Lydia was born," said Jamie nostalgically. "That's a way boring breakfast, Aunt Quinn."

"Her options are limited if Mr. Toilet Bowl isn't destined to see more of her than I am," Clay joked, and Quinn elbowed him in the ribs with a frustrated huff. "Ouch! Well, it's true, I must not tell lies," he winked at Jamie. "That's the motto of Harry Potter, right Jamie?"

"You're finally learning." Jamie was beaming with pride when Logan charged suddenly down the stairs. "It's about time, Wolverine, let's go!"

"We'll pick you up tonight, kiddo," Clay reminded his son, ruffling Logan's hair as the boy dashed past him and out the door. "Be good for Uncle Nate and Aunt Haley, okay?"

"Always," Logan called over his shoulder and then he screeched to a halt and rushed back up the porch steps with Chuck and Jamie looking on impatiently. "Good luck," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Quinn's cheek and quickly hugging his father. "Love you."

"We love you too," they said in unison, and then Clay put his arm around Quinn, and they stood on the beach house porch watching the three boys dashing across the beach on their way to another school day.

**A / N I'm enjoying the OTP fuzzies too much, ahh! Enjoy xx**


	3. Bobby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Chuck walk Logan to school with some reassuring words when he confides in them about the source of his anxiety. But all is not as it seems for Logan's bully and fellow classmate Bobby Ryan either.

"That whole chocolate thing is going to backfire on you, dude," Chuck was saying all-knowingly as he and Jamie passed Karen's Café with Logan trailing at a snail's pace a few steps behind them. "Madison is a girl, after all."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," Jamie muttered through gritted teeth. "She totally enjoyed it; Harry Potter movies need good chocolate, end of story."

"But it's bad for you," Chuck sing-songed annoyingly. "And one day it's going to make her fat and then she'll hate you, just saying."

"Hey, you're the one who made up a song about your collection of Halloween candy," Jamie retorted with an eye roll. He glanced over his shoulder; "Speed up a little there, Wolverine," he urged. "What do you think about girls and chocolate?" He frowned as Logan's gaze jerked up at the question, tense and oddly nervous. "Hey, are you okay, buddy? Get over here." Jamie nodded at the wide gap between himself and Chuck; keeping him at a distance was the only way to deal with the other boy's teasing. The eight-year-old shuffled over quickly and released a sigh when Jamie gripped his shoulders. "Are you nervous about the whole baby check-up thing today?"

"Evans is always nervous about something or other," Chuck teased, taking the lead when Jamie slowed down to keep pace with Logan and scowled at his irritating friend.

"Shut up, Chuck," he snapped, watching Logan anxiously as his cousin's gaze remained fixated on one of the apartment blocks they were walking past. "What are you staring at?" Jamie pressed. He frowned at the cop car parked in front of the building Logan was watching intently. "Earth to Wolverine!"

"That's Bobby's house." Logan looked visibly paler as he sidled closer to Jamie; "I don't like this road, can we just get away from here fast, please?"

"Nice car," Jamie commented appreciatively; "Is his Dad a cop or something?"

"Yup," Logan confirmed with a stiff nod. "His Dad is a cop, and he hates me, so we need to move in case he hasn't left the house yet."

"Why would he hate you? Who is this kid anyway?" Jamie asked with a puzzled grimace.

"A classmate," Logan muttered quickly. "And I don't know why he hates me," he added with a helpless shrug. "But I normally try to avoid him; he says all sorts of mean stuff when we do meet."

"What kind of stuff?" Chuck cut in curiously, falling back slightly to join the cousins.

"The kind of stuff I don't need to hear the day Mom and Dad are meeting their new baby," Logan said shortly. His small fists clenched and began to tremble as Jamie glanced sternly at Chuck, silencing any teasing quip his best friend might have been about to say.

"This boy sounds like a total egghead," said Chuck instead, smirking at Jamie's amazed expression as he patted Logan on the back. "I know lousy parenting, okay? You have nothing to worry about, junior."

"You're just full of surprises, Scolnik," said Jamie, gaping at the other boy. He glanced over his shoulder at the mysterious Bobby's apartment and smiled at Logan encouragingly. "We've been through this buddy; the baby isn't going to change how much your parents love you."

"You promise?" Logan pressed hopefully, his big brown eyes full of insecurity.

Jamie ruffled his hair affectionately, smirking when the smaller boy ducked out of his reach with a grimace. "Of course I promise, you dork," he said seriously. "And if this Bobby kid ever says anything to make you doubt that we'll kick his ass, simple."

"You said a swear," Logan protested mischievously. "Would you seriously do that?"

"Nobody messes with my dorky little brother and gets away with it," Jamie vowed. "Your Dad may be the one obsessed with superheroes but back when Chuck used to pick on me; my Dad wore a cape to school to put a stop to it. Pretty cool, don't you think?"

"Wow, just like Superman!" Logan gasped, while Chuck had the good grace to look slightly ashamed. "Is it true that Mom and Aunt Brooke and Aunt Haley went around town dressed as superheroes too?"

"You bet it is," Jamie nodded. "It was just before Lydia was born too; you didn't want to be the one to piss my Mom off in that state. They went around in costume telling bullies to back off; it was kind of awesome."

"The moral of the story is this Bobby kid can't mess with you without getting shown who's boss," Chuck interrupted. "You've got the superhero name, own it, okay? On that note, race you slowpokes to school!"

"We've got your back, Wolverine," Jamie promised again. "But right now we actually should hurry, chop chop!" And with that the cousins took off after Chuck, ready to face whatever the day would bring in the knowledge that they had each other.

_A few hours earlier_

_Detective Kevin Riley hated working the night shift with a passion. This Sunday had proved no exception; he dared say it was worse than usual. With days to go till Christmas, the infuriating festive jingles dominated the police department's radio all night. After a solid eight hours of that nauseating holiday cheer pounding in his ears, Kevin had spent an hour after his shift ended at 3 a.m drowning his grumpy mood in alcoholic beverages at the local bar. His intoxicated vision saw the streetlights as mere blurry pinpricks when he swerved mercifully to a halt in front of his apartment, knocking over the neatly stacked parcels of paper set out for recycling as he staggered up the front steps. Swaying slightly, the detective flicked on the light in the entrance hallway. Scowling, he ducked sideways into the kitchen and stared at the leftover pizza on the counter in disgust._

" _Welcome home," came a tired voice and Kevin whipped around to see his wife Melissa standing in the kitchen doorway, bracing her hands on both sides of the frame as if she might keel over. Her shoulder-length brown hair was in tangles, and her eyes could barely stay open, but she offered him a faint smile anyway._

_"You call that a welcome?" Kevin growled, motioning jerkily with his thumb over his shoulder at the stone-cold pizza._

_"Bobby wanted pizza," she said in a steady voice, but Kevin saw the flicker of dismay in her deep hazel eyes and the hint of a smile faded at his curt tone._

_"Well I want not to hear those disgusting Christmas tunes all night, and then come home to bloody pizza!" Kevin snapped. He took a faltering step towards her, dangerously close to seeing double as his head throbbed. "It looks like only Bobby gets what he wants, you are useless."_

_His rant had guided them down the entrance hallway into the living room, and Kevin threw their glittering Christmas tree a dark look as he flicked on the television. Melissa cowered in one of the armchairs he had practically backed her into and watched him warily. She could smell the alcohol on his breath from all the way across the room but to say anything about it was asking for trouble when he was in this mood. "What the hell is this?" Kevin snarled suddenly, breaking her petrified reverie. He was brandishing a letter with her name on it he had just discovered on the coffee table._

_"My application for that opening as a receptionist at Tree Hill High," she said softly. "I told you about it."_

_"You don't go by Melissa Ryan anymore," he said accusingly, jabbing a finger at the address on the envelope, which had her maiden name neatly printed on it._

_"There are already many teachers by the name of Riley at the school," she explained. "This is just for administrative convenience, okay?"_

_She raised her hands, looking defeated, but all it did was make Kevin angrier; "Not okay if that's a fancy word for wanting out of this marriage," he said in a dangerously low voice and yanked her unceremoniously to her feet. "Are you planning on leaving me, sweetheart?" he breathed in her face, and Melissa shook her head vigorously, feeling nauseous at the stench of alcohol._

" _Kevin please," she whispered, ignoring the throbbing his merciless grip on her wrists was causing, it could be worse. "You'll wake Bobby, just please calm down."_

_Her breath was coming in desperately shaky gasps as he abruptly released her wrists, faintly bruised by his tight grip already. "I'll show you calm," he said with a maniacal glint in his eyes as he paced over to the little Christmas tree in the corner, reached to its tip and lifted the porcelain Christmas angel from the topmost branch. "Merry bloody Christmas," he hissed and threw the ornament at her hard. The porcelain angel sailed across the room and Melissa couldn't help a little shriek when one of the carefully sculpted wings grazed her face before it hit the ground at her feet and shattered beyond repair. Kevin stomped off to bed as she dropped to her knees and tried to clear away the broken glass. Neither of them even noticed eight-year-old Bobby's wide eyes peeking through the gap in the winding staircase._

Three miserably long hours after the yelling woke him and destroyed any chance of drifting back to sleep; Bobby Ryan quickly closed his eyes when his mother peeked in on him. "Rise and shine, sweetie," she said, crossing over to the bed to nudge him gently. "The joys of Monday morning, right?" she joked, but her smile looked more like a grimace as she adjusted the bracelets on her wrists self-consciously.

"I'm not going," Bobby scowled, sitting up to get a closer look at her face. "You can stop pretending nothing happened last night. I heard the yelling."

Melissa lowered her gaze and sighed; "Not going to school?" she repeated skeptically. "Bobby please, I don't have the energy to argue with you."

"Who's arguing?" Bobby shot back, shoving his dark brown hair away from his eyes so he could stare at her more piercingly. "What if he hurts you again?"

His mother bit her lip thoughtfully and let her smooth hand trail across his cheek affectionately; "He won't," she promised. "He just had a rough night; it was all because of the drinking, okay?" She kissed him on the forehead, right between his big, worried eyes. "I'll be fine as long as you get to school," she insisted. "Please?"

"It's not okay, Mom," he said quietly, leaning forward to hug her carefully. "You make excuses like this every time Dad loses his temper, and he says sorry every time, but it doesn't stop!"

"Come on, you need to eat something before school," Melissa urged, ignoring the disappointment all over her son's face. Bobby shook his head and led the way down the stairs, coming to such an abrupt halt at the bottom that she almost collided with him. "What's wrong, kiddo?" she asked, as he stood stiffly rooted to the spot staring at the battered Christmas tree.

"Where's Aunt Katie's angel?" he asked, pointing at the bare tip of the fake pine with a shaking finger. He turned to face her with a quivering lip and so much pain in his eyes that the fact he was only eight years old hit her with full force. "Mom, where is the angel?" Just minutes ago Bobby had seemed exasperated that she seemed blind to Kevin's faults, now his words were agitated and desperate.

"I'm sorry, baby." Melissa took his hand gently and tried not to flinch when he glared darkly at her. "Your Dad…he broke it last night," she confessed. "You know how he gets."

Her helpless justifications fell on deaf ears as Bobby pulled his hand from her grasp with a frown; "My point exactly," he said, staring past her as Kevin's drunken snores drifted down from the upper floor. "On second thought, I'm not very hungry," he muttered. With that, he stomped out to the driveway and didn't say another word to his mother all the way to school.


	4. Emerald Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay and Quinn reminisce about their wedding day as they await the doctor's appointment. Melissa hatches a plan to lift Bobby's spirits.

Later that afternoon, Clay Evans sat in his Stingray resisting the urge to slam the horn down in euphoric impatience. "What's the holdup, Q? We'll miss our appointment," he moaned when she finally emerged on the porch and came down the steps infuriatingly slowly.

"These things are never punctual, baby," she laughed at his huge pout. "You're acting like this is your first time at this."

He backed the car out of the driveway, smiling sheepishly; "Well it's my first with you, it's exciting stuff." He pressed a kiss to her hand and continued; "It is my first time at the twelve-week check-up, actually."

"Really? Why's that?" Quinn asked.

"Lil took Sara for her first check because I had to work a lot harder in the early days. It sucked, but life got in the way," he confessed. "Kind of metaphorical for what happened a year after that…I quit on him, and his grandparents saved the day."

"Oh, stop it," she cut in firmly. "One doctor's appointment isn't a metaphor for anything, that's just life."

"You're amazing, you know that?" he said fondly as he circled the hospital parking lot.

"I try," Quinn smirked. "So when did you get to see Logan for the first time?"

"The day we found out he would be Logan." Clay smiled nostalgically; "Twenty weeks it was I think, and I made a deal with Sara that I would get to name the baby if it was a boy."

"And so Wolverine was born because you're a ridiculously huge dork?" she guessed affectionately.

"You've got that right," he said, leaning across the gear stick to kiss her firmly. "A huge dork who is insanely in love with you and won't miss a single second this time around," he promised. Clay raised a finger warningly when she turned to open the passenger door. "Don't move, missy!"

In five seconds flat he walked around the car and pulled open her door. "Overkill honey," Quinn giggled when he offered her his hand. "I'm barely even showing yet."

"Humor me," he begged, and Quinn sighed and leaned contentedly into his supportive embrace as they walked towards the hospital entrance.

"I always do," she said softly. "I love you, my crazy dork."

"I'm glad because I love you more than anything," he said solemnly and pressed a kiss into her hair.

"Stop fidgeting," Quinn laughed a little while later when they were seated in the waiting room of the maternity ward. "So nervous?"

"So excited," he corrected with a huge grin. "It feels like Christmas has come early and it's almost Christmas for real, so that's saying a lot."

Quinn fingered the delicate silver chain fastened around her neck coyly. "Speaking of Christmas, this was what delayed our leaving the house," she confessed and lifted the chain over her shirt so that it was better visible. Dangling from it like a pendant was the green power ring Logan had given Clay to propose with two years ago. "It's not just Christmas in December, remember this?"

Clay stared at her in awe; "Of course I remember," he said softly, fingering the ring gently. "Christmas was always around; this ring changed my life. I can't believe you kept it on the chain."

"You better believe it, mister," she said. "This thing is my lucky charm and always will be."

_December 2016 – Two Years Earlier_

" _No James girl in Tree Hill will ever get married in anything but a custom-made Clothes Over Bros design," Brooke Davis vowed, beaming in triumph as she pinned the small veil into the bun on Quinn's head. Beyond the door of the Scott mansion's guest bedroom were the sounds of absolute chaos but the fashion designer was focused on her task and ignored it. "Okay, open your eyes!" she demanded finally, grinning from ear to ear as Quinn opened her eyes and gaped at her reflection._

_"Oh my God," she breathed in awe. "Brooke, this is amazing…thank you so much." The white, slim-fitting design fell just past her knees, and silvery sequins glittered in elegant patterns across the front._

_"Who said second marriages are an excuse to look any less fabulous?" the brunette winked._

_Quinn turned slowly and hugged her friend; "Trust me, my wedding to David happened so fast, it was nowhere near this fabulous."_

_"If I could make Peyton's pregnant ass look good back in the day, this was a piece of cake," Brooke shrugged modestly. "Knock your man dead out there, Q."_

_"I hope not," Quinn laughed. "I like my man alive, thank you very much."_

_"You two are legit survivors," Brooke sighed dreamily. "I'm happy for you."_

_Quinn smiled at her affectionately, but before she could thank her again Haley flung the bedroom door open and barged in; "Quinnie, I have…oh my God!"_

_"You have God?" Quinn laughed as her baby sister smiled radiantly. "Come here you; this dress is still a little stiff."_

_"Look at you," Haley said fondly, running her fingers across the sparkly sequins adorning the front of the dress. "So gorgeous, Clay's not going to know what hit him."_

_"That's the idea," Brooke cut in while Haley gave her sister a delicate squeeze so she wouldn't crush the dress._

_"What were you saying before the dress interrupted coherent speech?" Quinn asked teasingly, as the door creaked open carefully again and a pair of brown eyes peeked shyly in on the girls. Quinn stared at her adoptive son, hovering nervously in the doorway; "Logan? What are you doing here, buddy?"_

" _That's what I was about to mention," Haley interjected. "His grandmother brought him down from the beach house and said something about how he desperately wanted to talk to you."_

_"Get in here." Quinn beckoned the six-year-old closer to her. "Is something wrong? You were helping your Dad get ready at the beach house, right?"_

_Logan nodded mutely and shot Haley and Brooke shifty, nervous glances. "Could you girls give us a few minutes alone?" Quinn suggested, reluctantly meeting Haley's concerned gaze._

_"Hurry," they urged together, shooting her half-done hairstyle furtive looks._

_"Thank you," said Quinn and firmly shut the bedroom door on them to give the shy little boy privacy with her. Logan had perched on the edge of the bed she had so often occupied in recent years when she finally turned to face him. "You look adorable," she said conversationally, smiling at his miniature suit as she crossed over to the bed; "Missed a spot though." Logan wriggled forward with a sheepish smile so that she could tie his loose shoe-laces properly. "There we go, now, are you going to tell me why you're here?"_

" _The rings," Logan said sadly. "Dad said my job is to protect the wedding rings."_

_"That's right." Quinn sat down beside him carefully; "That's one of the most important jobs; we can't get married without the rings. What's wrong with that?"_

_"You didn't like my power ring enough?" he asked softly. "These new rings are so boring; they don't even glow in the dark."_

_"Oh sweetie," she sighed, the problem suddenly crystal clear. "Hey, look at me, please?" Logan stared at her, his little lips quivering with childish rejection. "I love that ring, okay? That night in the tent is the start of our family's future together. There is nothing more precious than the ring that started it all; trust me."_

_"Then why can't you use that one?" he pressed curiously. "It's so much cooler than these normal silver ones."_

_"I agree," Quinn assured him affectionately; "It's way cooler, no doubt about that." A quick glance at her reflection in the full-length mirror across the room gave Quinn a sudden idea. Giving Logan's shoulder a gentle squeeze, she crossed over to the dresser and picked up the delicate silver chain lying on it. As he watched with adorable wide eyes, she slid the little diamond heart pendant Clay had given her for Valentine's Day the previous year off the chain._

_She pulled the green plastic ring from one of the dresser drawers and slipped it onto the chain carefully, then dangled it in front of Logan triumphantly. "I'll tell you what...see this? Traditional wedding ceremonies always involve four items for the bride," she explained; "Something old, that's been used before in a previous generation's wedding, something new for a fresh start, something borrowed and something blue." With that said she fastened the chain around her neck and grasped the ring tightly in her fist. "I'm just going to borrow this and let it stay right here, closer to my heart than anything else. That's where it truly deserves to be, understood?"_

_A slow smile spread across Logan's face at her words, and he walked over to her with his eyes practically sparkling. "Really? That's so awesome, thanks Mom," he beamed and gave her a quick hug._

_Quinn patted him lovingly on the back but then stepped back and eyed him solemnly. "There is one thing I need you to do for me in return, okay?"_

_"What's that?" he asked, tilting his head curiously._

_"Give your Dad a chance to prove himself," she said softly and his smile faded. "Look, I know you've had to live without a Mom or a Dad for basically your whole life and it's not fair. I know it's hard to trust him after everything you've been through and hard to understand…but the thing is he's been suffering just like you. Try and believe how much he loves you. Can you do that for me?"_

" _At Doctor A's clinic just before he told me the truth, I said finding each other would mean neither of us would have to be sad anymore," Logan confessed. "I don't like being sad…I'll believe, promise."_

_"Good boy," Quinn smiled. "Why do you still look so scared then?" Logan lowered his gaze nervously and mumbled something incoherent. "What was that?" she pressed gently._

_"Your family is huge, right?" he said slowly. "What if…they don't like me?"_

_"Don't you dare worry about that," she said firmly, completely disregarding the condition of her dress as she drew the little boy into a tight embrace. "It's the first time your Dad is meeting a lot of them too. You're not alone, okay? And I know they'll love you anyway," she soothed._

_"But how do you know that?" he asked apprehensively._

_"Because I love you," she said simply. "I love you and your Dad so much, and this is my happy ending. That will be good enough for them, I promise!"_

"Where's your head, Quinn James?" Clay cut into her thoughts suddenly, and she smiled as he rubbed the back of her hand in gentle circular motions.

"Just thinking about Logan," she said vaguely. "I hope he can stop worrying so much about everything one day, you know?"

"I hope so too," Clay agreed grimly. "As long as he worries about something like losing us, I can't stop feeling how badly I screwed up with him."

"I wish you wouldn't," she sighed as a nurse stepped out of the nearest examination room and smiled at the room of expectantly waiting couples.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans?" she called out, and Clay beamed at Quinn and helped her to her feet.

"Now there are some words I never get tired of hearing," he grinned, ignoring her exasperated expression as he kept a firm hold on her.

"Save the overprotective attitude for when I'm that size," she said, nodding at a woman sitting across the room who looked ready to pop. "You're lucky I love you, Mr. Evans."

"There's no doubt about that," he said fervently and helped her lie back in the reclining examination chair. "But just so we're clear, I love you more."

"Not possible," she said softly, and when the nurse left the room for a moment to prepare the ultrasound apparatus, Quinn pulled his head towards her and captured his lips in a firm kiss. "Here's to us," she whispered and entwined her fingers with his, not letting go until the nurse returned.

At Tree Hill High meanwhile, students were spilling out of the building with excitement typical to the end of a school day. From her car, Melissa Ryan scanned the sea of youngsters in anticipation, feeling more hopeful than she had in a long time. Finally, Bobby emerged, slouching and still looking so miserable it made her heart hurt. "Bad day?" she asked, grimacing sympathetically when he reached the car and tossed his school bag down on the back seat with a scowl before climbing in beside it.

"When it started with a broken Christmas angel and Dad being nasty, how could it become a good day?"

"Fair point," she admitted. "What if I told you I have an idea to make at least Christmas a little bit special?"

"How?" Bobby wondered skeptically. "Anything with Dad around is going to be miserable."

"Let me finish," she smiled mysteriously. "I called the clinic where Aunt Katie is staying today. How would you like to head over to Atlanta this weekend, just you and me?" As she parked the car in front of their house, Melissa caught her son's eye in the rearview mirror and saw for the first time that day a flicker of hope. It was all the confirmation she needed to set her plan in motion.

**A / N Major fluff alert to put off the angst as long as possible, enjoy all! xx**


	5. Have A Little Faith In Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan finds understanding for his predicament with Bobby from Chuck and Jamie. Quinn shares her sonogram with Haley and reveals the family's Christmas plans.

"Jamie, wait up!" called Madison Landry's voice through the surge of students leaving Tree Hill High after school on Thursday afternoon. The final week of school before the Christmas holidays had progressed uneventfully for the most part, with Logan's new escort party to school being the only recent change in routine.

The twelve-year-old grabbed Logan's hand to stop him dashing off without supervision and turned to face the girl with a grin; "Hey Maddie," he greeted her casually. "What's up?"

She smiled shyly at him; "I uh…I was wondering if you could help me with the English assignment for the holidays? Mrs. Hill wasn't making any sense to me," she sighed.

"I'm lucky that my Mom is so good at English," Jamie laughed. "She even tutored my Dad when they were in high school. You want to come over and take a look at it together?"

"I knew I could count on you, Tutor Son," she beamed gratefully. Jamie shrugged modestly, as a smaller look-alike of the Asian girl wandered out of the classroom they were standing near and latched onto Madison's hand dutifully. "I need to go home first though, drop-off duty," she explained. "This is my little sis, Rebecca." Madison's younger sister clung shyly to her hand, not making eye contact with the boys. "Say hi, Becky," she prompted encouragingly, to no avail. "She's a bit shy," she added unnecessarily.

"Me too, actually," Jamie admitted, nodding at Logan. "The drop-off I mean, not the shy part. This knucklehead thinks eight is all grown up; my Aunt Quinn would never forgive me if I let anything happen to him."

"Sounds like your Mom loves you as much as the new baby, after all, right?" Madison smiled warmly at the younger boy. "What? My memory's not that bad," she giggled at Jamie's awe-struck expression.

"We've lost him, Wolverine," Chuck sighed dramatically, joining the group from a classroom further down the hall at that moment and smirking at Jamie's expression.

"You're an idiot, Chuck." Madison rolled her eyes at his teasing grin, unfazed.

"Maybe so," he shot back, looking from Jamie to the two Asian girls and back. "But I can drop Logan home if you want extra time with your girlfriend," he winked.

"I'm not a baby," Logan protested, ducking out of Chuck's reach to avoid the reflexive ruffling of his hair.

"And Madison's not my girlfriend that way, shut up," Jamie retorted, but he looked visibly tempted to accept the offer. He glanced at Logan hopefully; "Do you think Aunt Quinn would accept a single escort for the walk home, squirt?"

"A what?" Logan asked with a puzzled frown. "You totally talk like Aunt Haley, Jamie," he giggled.

"A single escort means only one person would be walking you home," Chuck explained. "That way Jamie can go tutor his girlfriend right now, without worrying about you. I think the two of us can handle a little walk, right?"

"I guess so," Logan shrugged indifferently, and Jamie looked instantly relieved.

"Looks like Chuck can be nice after all," Madison said, smiling at Jamie. "You should try it more often, Scolnik."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Chuck said dismissively. "Let's go, junior, leave these guys to their fun with homework." He smirked suggestively at Jamie and Madison and guided Logan away. The pair reached up to the River Court in uneventful silence. Suddenly a dark-haired figure darted past them hastily, and Logan froze, rooted tensely to the spot. "What the hell was that about?" Chuck mused, and it was a sign of his terror that Logan didn't bother to point out the unnecessary swear word.

"Bobby," Logan said simply, resuming the walk when the other boy was safely out of sight. "It's a bit of a habit to freeze I guess; he can be pretty unpredictable."

"Hmm," Chuck murmured thoughtfully, not looking convinced. "He looked a bit stressed if you ask me," he said carefully, not wanting to offend the younger boy.

"He stole my lunch on Monday," Logan shot back defensively. "Whose side are you on?"

Chuck laughed dismissively and draped his arm around Logan's shoulders as they walked. "Easy Wolverine, it was just an observation," he said coolly. "I think he might be jealous of you, that's all. I used to look at Jamie like that when we were younger, you know."

"No way," Logan said disbelievingly. "You're crazy!"

"If you say so, junior." Chuck dropped the subject pointedly, but he couldn't quite shake the mental image of the rival boy's haunted eyes, an all too familiar sight.

In his haste meanwhile, Bobby arrived home in record time. The kitchen door was open, allowing warmth and pleasant smells to drift out into the main hallway connecting to the living room. Noiselessly Bobby put down his school bag in a corner and peeked around the edge of the door frame. Melissa was standing by the stove stirring something in a pot, and Kevin had his arms wrapped around her waist. "No more pizza," Bobby heard his mother say soothingly, and Kevin bowed his head so that it grazed against her shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry, Lissa," he murmured, squeezing her tightly. "Those Christmas tunes piss me off, you know? I shouldn't have gone to the bar after work."

Melissa leaned back into her husband's arms as the pot on the stove began to simmer. "It's okay," she said reassuringly. "Small price to pay for making Tree Hill the safe place it is, right?"

She stared into the bubbling pot to fight the growing sense of longing as his fingers trailed through her hair. "I knew you'd understand," he said appreciatively. "If it weren't for that stupid kid, this would be perfect. Don't leave me, okay?"

"Kevin!" she protested sharply. "Was that necessary?" Her fist clenched around the spoon she was using to stir her concoction around the big pot with, but he refused to look rueful. "I'm not going anywhere, but I wish you wouldn't talk like that."

"I love you, Lissa," he moaned with a disarming smile. "See you after another bloody night shift, okay?"

"I'll be waiting," she said softly, but her smile barely lasted till he was out the door. Profanities always dimmed the sincerity of Kevin's sweet talking, and she was done falling for his charm. A few minutes later the stew was done, and Melissa quickly transferred it into a container and stored it in the fridge. Then she made her way down the hall and peered up the staircase to the upper floor, the lights on the landing above were switched off. "Bobby?" she called, but there was no answer. Biting her lip in concern, Melissa made her way up to his bedroom quickly. Miraculously considering the stony silence, his door wasn't locked, and she simply hesitated in the doorway and watched him scribbling away aggressively at something on his desk. "How was your day, kid?"

"You're a liar," he choked, without looking up.

"Excuse me?" Melissa frowned uncomprehendingly and walked over to the desk he was bent over. She pulled the sharp pencil from his grasp before his aggressive force could damage the homework sheet he was puzzling over. "What have I done now?"

"You trust him," Bobby spat; there was no need to clarify who he meant. "He hates me, and you always believe those stupid apologies."

"Bobby, that's not true," she said firmly, as he aimed a heart-breaking, teary glare at her. "He's a cop; I had to make him believe that I'm not deserting him."

"But he hates me," the eight-year-old repeated dully, his lips quivering with anguish at the fact. "Do you think Aunt Katie will finally come home?"

"I'll make her," Melissa vowed, holding his head against her chest. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to the heavens that her sister would cooperate. For whatever reason, Bobby had always believed that Katie could make things better for them. "Screw him," she said boldly, cursing Kevin as she cradled their son affectionately. "I love you more than anything in the world and I will get Aunt Katie to come home. If it is the last thing I do, we'll get out of this mess, I promise!"

When Jamie and Madison arrived at his house a little later, it was to find Haley staring in awe at a blurry black and white ultrasound photograph. Beside her on the couch, Quinn was clutching a mug of tea and smiling with pride at the enthusiastic audience her baby sister provided. "Amazing, isn't it?" she prompted eagerly.

"It's just wonderful," Haley grinned. "It's a great feeling, right?"

"Especially now I'm not getting sick as much," Quinn nodded. "But at this point, it honestly feels like any side effect would be worth it, you know? I'm only three months along and already Clay's getting ultra protective. I've never seen him so over the moon about anything before, and that makes me happy."

"Babies do that," Haley said wisely. "You both so deserve this, I'm so happy for you, honey." She whipped around as Jamie entered with Madison in tow, equipped with drinks of juice after entering through the kitchen. "Oh, hey kiddo," she smiled. "Look who's here."

"Madison needs help with the English homework for the holidays," Jamie explained vaguely, coming over to the couch to hug Quinn. "Hi Aunt Quinn, is that the baby?" he asked in wonder. "Looks kind of like a blob right now, no offense," he giggled mischievously.

"Quit insulting my kid, Jimmy Jam," she protested affectionately. "You'll be babysitting this little guy or girl one day, you know."

"I think it's cute," Madison chipped in diplomatically, leaning towards the coffee table to examine the scan.

"Thanks, Madison," Quinn beamed as Jamie flopped down on the couch and cuddled close to her.

"I was only joking," he said reassuringly. "I can't wait to babysit this kid; I hope it's just like you. Because whether it was the superhero exposure or what I don't know, but Logan is a lot more like Uncle Clay."

"That's true," Quinn consented. "Not that that's a bad thing, I love my boys." Then she glanced around and frowned; "Speaking of Logan, where is he anyway? Weren't you supposed to be walking him home, bud?" she asked, fixing her nephew with a piercing stare.

"Relax, Chuck's walking with him," Jamie explained coolly. "The real question is, how you lost track of time?" he smirked cheekily. "They must be back at the beach house by now, and you're not."

"The kid has a point," Haley admitted reluctantly. "Guess I distracted you with my enthusiasm, huh Q?"

"I fail," Quinn declared dramatically and rose quickly to her feet. "In all the excitement I forgot to mention the real reason I'm here anyway."

"You mean it wasn't to show off the scan?" Haley asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

"Well, that too," Quinn confessed. "But I also wanted to tell you that we won't be here for Christmas." Jamie's mouth dropped open in dismay, and his aunt raised her hand to prevent a protest. "I know it's unfortunate but all Logan's grandparents are in Raleigh, and naturally they want to see him over the holidays. Makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Jamie said, slightly sadly. "At least he still has three grandparents, that'll be pretty cool. Come home soon, okay?"

"We will," Quinn promised, giving him a tight squeeze before she went to grab her coat. At the door, she glanced over her shoulder once more; "Hey Jamie? Don't tell him about our trip, okay? We're heading out as soon as school's out for the holidays tomorrow and it's a surprise." With that, she pulled the front door open and gave a reluctant sigh when a blast of cold December wind greeted her; "Now I better go find my kid, see you guys."

Jamie and Madison dashed up to his bedroom to wave at her from the upper window and Haley wandered into the kitchen to make the kids a snack. The simple announcement of holiday plans had unleashed the spirit of the season, and even with less of her family around, Haley had the feeling it would be a good Christmas.


	6. Calls Me Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Evans family departs for Raleigh to spend Christmas with Logan's grandparents. Melissa visits her sister and remembers the first time Katie was arrested, all the while trying to keep Bobby's faith alive.

"Are we there yet?" Logan piped up from the back seat of Quinn's Jeep the following afternoon, not for the first time since the family had left Tree Hill.

Clay smirked at his son through the rearview mirror, watching the eight-year-old squirm restlessly in amusement. "If we were there already, we wouldn't be on the highway, you dork," he pointed out. "Why are you so jumpy today, huh?"

"Surprises make me nervous," the eight-year-old confessed softly. "Look what happened last time, with the news about the baby." He pressed back against the firm leather of the car seat, as if ashamed of his words; "I'm still sorry I ran."

"Don't even go there, squirt," Clay interrupted firmly. "We shouldn't have sprung such a big thing on you so suddenly. I wish you wouldn't ever worry about losing us again because it's never gonna happen, but I get it."

"Mom was really excited though," Logan sighed. "I guess it feels like I ruined the moment."

"You scared us by running, it would take a lot more than that to ruin such a big moment," Clay promised. "That's not an invitation to push the limit, just by the way."

Logan leaned forward with a faint smile and braced his hands on the passenger side headrest again; "I know," he said simply. With Clay's jacket wedged between her head and the window, Quinn had been fast asleep for the better part of the journey. "I also know why this trip is taking so long," he added decisively. "Mom is the fun one, total I Spy queen."

"I resent that, Wolverine," Clay pouted. "You realize you just called me boring?"

"Just for that look on your face," Logan giggled mischievously. "Mom doesn't normally sleep on car journeys, it's weird."

"Shhh," Clay hissed, throwing Quinn an affectionate side-ways glance as she shifted in her sleep. "The alternative is a miserable journey with lots of queasiness, just let her sleep."

"That's another thing I don't like," Logan said seriously. "The baby makes Mom sick, it's not really fair."

"True," Clay agreed with a distracted nod as he focused on the road. "It's like I told you, bud, fair or not this is just how it works. Your Mom knows all her nausea will be worth it in the end, it means the baby is healthy."

Logan grinned when Quinn's mouth gradually fell open as she dozed. "Healthy is good," he said. "Seriously, are we there yet?"

"Almost," his father sighed in exasperation. "Instead of playing I Spy you can probably figure out where we're going, you know. Christmas isn't the time for bad surprises. Stop worrying so much, you goof."

At Atlanta's best psychiatric facility meanwhile, Melissa and Bobby were being guided down a seemingly endless, white-washed corridor by a friendly nurse. Fiercely independent though he was these days, Bobby clung firmly to his mother's hand as they passed a series of gloomy patients' quarters. Some of the doors had square panes of glass embedded in them, windows through which to observe the unfortunate souls occupying each room. "Your sister is one of the sanest people we have staying here," the chatty nurse told Melissa earnestly as she bustled around yet another corner. "Her residence here is pretty much voluntary at this point. She often says the lithium has an unpleasant numbing effect on her emotions and avoiding a dose too often makes her a bit unstable, that's really nothing compared to some patients."

"I've heard that one before," Melissa said fervently, squeezing Bobby's hand reassuringly when a man with a wide-eyed, demented stare leered eerily through one glass panel at them. "If it's really only about the meds at this point, it would really be nice to have her come home again. That's what I'm here to convince her of," she explained shortly.

The young blonde nurse smiled reassuringly at her; "It might actually be good for her to give the world outside this place another try. I haven't worked here that long but I heard she's been out before and got into a spot of trouble. Second time's the charm maybe, who knows?"

"More like third time's the charm," Melissa shuddered involuntarily. "The first time she was locked up was five years ago, for delusional impersonation of a dead woman. She's been in and out of here many times since, but there are some things one never forgets."

The nurse had frozen in the act of unlocking Katie's room at that revelation and too late Melissa realized that even Bobby was staring up at her in vaguely horrified wonder. He had only been three years old on that fateful November day after all. "Family is family, no matter what," she added, even as the memory surfaced forcefully. "We just really need her to come home."

_November 2013 – Five Years Earlier_

" _What did you bring the kid for?" Kevin Riley frowned at his wife as she arrived at the police station with their three-year-old son in her arms.  
_

_"He's three years old, Kevin," she sighed at the typical disapproving tone. "Mrs. Taylor next door didn't answer my call, what did you expect me to do? Besides, your call sounded urgent."  
_

_"Crazy old lady needs her hearing checked," he grumbled, guiding her towards the holding cells at the back of the building. "Whatever, I thought the arrest we made today might be of interest to you."  
_

_"Why's that?" Melissa asked, absently smiling at the policewoman guarding the cell they stopped in front of.  
_

_She carefully hoisted their sleeping son more comfortably into her arms as Kevin dismissed the other cop with a charming smile. Then he turned to her again and asked simply; "Did you notice the guy pacing out there?" Melissa shook her head so he led her surreptitiously back down the corridor for a better view of the reception hall. The man Kevin nodded discreetly towards was now giving another policeman his statement. Beside him stood a tall brunette shooting him periodic glances of concern and Melissa could see the couple's intertwined hands shaking even from this distance._

" _What's his case?" Melissa asked, unable to figure out what any of this had to do with her.  
_

_Curled against her shoulder, little Bobby began to stir just then and Kevin scowled at the boy before responding; "That's Clay Evans, he's a local sports agent here in Tree Hill. He also became a widower about two years ago."  
_

_"Sounds rough," Melissa grimaced sympathetically. "What does that have to do with me?"  
_

_"A certain someone tossed her lithium in the trash and apparently started stalking him after a chance meeting at an Atlanta tennis convention," Kevin explained mysteriously. "Sound familiar?"  
_

_His smirk was decidedly unpleasant as he watched her put the pieces together; "Lithium…," she repeated slowly. Her naturally large brown eyes grew even wider in horror as the implication hit home. Kevin followed her closely as she lurched towards the holding cell and stared through the bars. "Katie?"_

" _That's not all," Kevin continued, coming up behind his wife as she gazed in shock at the dazed blonde in the cell. "Apparently our Katie got so delusional after going off the medication that she went blonde to impersonate Mr. Evans' dead wife. We had to use a mild sedative just to get her in the car, she was threatening to jump off the bridge at the pier."  
_

_"Oh God," Melissa whimpered, trembling so violently even Bobby woke up properly and stared at her with his big, innocent eyes. "Do you have the key to the cell?" she asked Kevin urgently. "I'll talk to her, there has to be a way to get through the delusions."  
_

_"That's the real reason you're here," he said as he unlocked the cell. "We can't hand her into psychiatric care until we get her side of the story and she won't talk."  
_

_"Kids aren't allowed in the holding cells," another cop hovering nearby reminded Kevin and he grudgingly took the three-year-old from Melissa as she approached her sister.  
_

_"She'll talk soon enough," the brunette vowed as she knelt down in front of Katie and carefully took her hand. "Right honey? What happened out there?"  
_

_Her younger sister's dark blue eyes were eerily blank as she slowly looked up and Melissa shivered. She could hear Kevin muttering to himself as their son began to squirm but kept her questioning gaze locked on Katie; "He called me Sara," she moaned, barely coherently. "He said he believed me. But he loves Sara, not Katie…I had to be Sara!"  
_

_"That's the late wife's name," Kevin cut in when Melissa stared at him with a baffled expression. "What did I tell you? She's totally lost her mind."_

" _Shut up," Melissa protested on her sister's behalf as Katie pressed her hands over her eyes. She turned to her sister again and lowered her voice tenderly; "Tanisha told Clay you threw your lithium away," she began hesitantly. "Why would you do that, Kate? You know how important it is to keep your moods stable."  
_

_"He obviously thinks I'm a freak no matter what," the blonde pointed out, scowling in Kevin's direction. Melissa followed her miserable gaze to find her husband returning the glare equally coldly.  
_

_As she watched, Bobby twisted around in his father's arms and reached towards the bars of the holding cell; "Auntie Kay," he babbled happily, straining against Kevin's frustrated grip.  
_

_"Put him down," Melissa instructed, facing her sister with a triumphant smile. "The ones that really matter will always be on your side, see? Come here." With that, she dragged her sister off the metal bench in the cell and towards the bars keeping her from freedom._

" _Hi, buddy." Katie's voice was a choked whisper as she caressed her nephew's tiny fingers through the bars. Her lips quivered as she leaned back into her sister's soothing touch; "I really screwed up, Mel," she said softly. "It's just…with the lithium I feel so numb, you know? Without it, I apparently go crazy but taking it all the time it's like…I lose myself. You don't know what it's like to lose the feeling of knowing who you really are."  
_

_"You're wrong, sweetie," Melissa sighed, narrowing her eyes defiantly at Kevin's skeptical expression. Katie's head was bowed wearily against her shoulder now; "I think you're more likely to lose yourself without the medication because without the mood stabilizing effect of it anything can happen. Besides, I know exactly who you are," she whispered with a faint smile as Katie looked up at her curiously.  
_

_"Oh really?" she pressed in disbelief, stroking Bobby's hands through the bars as if to keep hold of her reality.  
_

_"Yes, really," Melissa repeated, grateful that Kevin had finally given up scoffing at them and wandered off. "You're my sister and that's the one thing you always will be, understand?" She gave her sister an affectionate squeeze as Katie gazed wistfully at the toddler outside the cell. "I love you and so does Bobby," she promised. "No matter what happens from here, we'll face it together."  
_

_"Thanks, Mel," Katie sighed as another policewoman came over to inform them it was time to leave. "I love you, too."_

"Mom, are you worried Aunt Katie will refuse to come home?" Bobby asked tentatively, interrupting Melissa's internal war with her conscience.

"No," Melissa lied quickly. "She can never refuse you, baby." She met his hopeful gaze with difficulty as their escort unlocked Katie's room. "Aunt Katie's moods go up and down a lot but she usually listened to me when that happened. You know when that changed?" Bobby ripped his gaze from the glass panel in Katie's room door and shook his head slowly, waiting expectantly for the answer. "When you were born," she said simply. "Tell her how much you need her and she won't be able to say no, I promise you."

"What about if Dad finds out we're here?" Bobby pressed. "He's going to completely freak out! You saw what happened to the Christmas angel."

"Yeah," she agreed softly, stroking his hair soothingly as they entered Katie's room at last and the nurse backed away. "But we're not made of glass, okay?"

But Bobby ignored her; oblivious to Katie's wide-eyed shock at their sudden appearance, he flung himself down on her lap and held on tight. Melissa stared at her sister from the doorway, taking comfort in the return of her familiar dark brown hair. "I need you, Kate," she said pleadingly and that was that.

**A / N I never thought I could write Crazy Katie in a sympathetic light but I'm not giving up on this story. The updates may take a while but I hope everyone enjoys it! xx**


	7. Oh Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay, Quinn and Logan travel to Raleigh for Christmas.

Quinn jerked awake to strong kicks to the back of the passenger seat and the sound of Clay's scolding voice; "Wolverine, how many times have I told you to hold still already?"

"I can't," the eight-year-old beamed, pointing at the thickening trees passing outside the car in a mixed blur of evergreen pines and leafless branches; "That's Harper Park, I know where we're going now."

"Sorry," Clay grimaced apologetically at Quinn; "How are you feeling, Sleeping Beauty? As you can tell, you didn't miss much, non-stop guessing game in progress here."

"You love it, you dork," she smiled knowingly, but folded her hands across her stomach and exhaled slowly. "Not feeling too great honestly, I hope Lil has her famous tea ready."

"I'm sure she will, just hang in there," he said encouragingly, but Logan took that as his cue to start bouncing up and down again.

"I knew it," he said triumphantly. "Best Christmas surprise ever!" He leaned forward and trailed his small fingers across Quinn's shoulder blades; "Dad sucks at dropping hints," he told her. "You missed all the fun, Mom."

"Oh really?" Quinn smirked at Clay's frustrated pout. "There will be plenty of time for fun when we get home, alright? Right now do you think you could stop squirming back there, please? I'd rather not throw up right here if that's alright with you," she laughed.

"Sure." Logan nodded quickly and looped his arms affectionately around her neck before leaning back calmly. "Sorry Mom, love you."

"Hey lovebirds, we're home," Clay cut in before Quinn could respond and Logan raced out of the car. "Having fun mocking me, are we?" he asked Quinn teasingly as he helped her out of the car.

"It beats vomiting in the car," she shot back honestly, and he pulled her instinctively closer. "There's no need to look at me like that, by the way. I made it this far in one piece, didn't I?"

"How am I looking at you, exactly? My girl is a total badass," he grinned affectionately and pressed a kiss to her forehead; "Something tells me it's going to be well worth the trip, look over there."

Logan had dashed down the stone path leading to Sam and Lil's front porch and was already standing in his grandmother's tight embrace. "You've grown so much," she exclaimed. "Oh, we've missed you, sweetheart."

"Grandma, you're squishing me," he giggled, peering over her shoulder curiously. "Where's Grandpa?"

"Upstairs probably, he'll be down soon," she promised. "When you get to our age the old knees are a menace, you know."

"Old knees don't change your priorities clearly," Clay cut in fondly. "Where's my hug?"

"Jealous, are we?" Lil teased as she delivered the requested embrace. "Hi honey, there's a surprise better than a hug waiting for you inside. Guess who's making tea right now?"

"Mom needs your magic tea, she feels sick," Logan interrupted, and Lil grimaced sympathetically at Quinn.

"I remember that feeling, I'm sure you've heard how worth the misery it is," she commiserated. "Let's go inside and relax, alright?"

"Sounds like a plan," Quinn murmured weakly. "Sorry for being so pathetic," she sighed, allowing Clay to take her jacket as she wandered down the hall and collapsed shakily on the living room couch.

Lil shook her head firmly, but the next voice came from the direction of the kitchen down the hall. "Nonsense, as I recall Sara got violently sick the day I found out about my first grand-baby, you're doing very well." With that Marie Evans emerged around the corner, carrying a tray of steaming teacups; "This should help settle the queasiness," she said, handing one to Quinn who smiled at her in thanks.

"Mom, what are you doing here?" Clay grinned. He caught Lil's amused gaze over his mother's shoulder as she hugged him; "You were right about that extra surprise," he said appreciatively.

"I figured as much," she said fondly. "We told Marie she's welcome to stay here for the weekend; it'll be so much easier if we're all together." She crossed over to the staircase as she spoke; "Samuel Kay, what's keeping you up there?" she called in frustration. "I'll be right back, guys."

"Where's my grandson got to?" Marie asked, glancing around the room as Quinn leaned wearily against Clay's shoulder. She suppressed a smile at the sight and narrowed her eyes at her son; "I'm not very happy with you right now, kid," she informed him.

"What did I do?" Clay protested indignantly, the hand stroking Quinn's back coming to an abrupt halt.

"I'll tell you what you don't do lately, pick up the phone," Marie sighed, making a face at him. "The whole point of going into business with your best friend was supposed to be that you don't have to work so hard. Nathan Scott saved you from rock bottom once and I'm very grateful, but I wish you would slow down sometimes."

"Save your breath, Marie," Quinn mumbled with her eyes closed. "Even Nathan has told him that a million times, the hard work is too much of a habit now. And you," she added to Clay; "keep those fingers moving, the massage feels so good."

"You can't take sides with my mother and still expect the pampering, missy," Clay teased her, even as his fingers resumed their exploration of her shoulder blades.

"Sure I can," Quinn giggled. "You just can't help yourself, luckily for me."

"You are terrible," he groaned, glancing at his mother only to see her dark blue eyes, identical to his, twinkling in amusement. "Where is Logan anyway? I need reinforcements around you two!"

"I was wondering that myself," Marie said, turning at the sound of pounding footsteps on the staircase. "Scratch that, only one person in this house right now is capable of that much noise just taking the stairs."

"Where's the fire, Wolverine?" Clay joked as the eight-year-old charged around the bend of the spiral staircase. "Is something wrong?" The weight of Quinn's head lifted off his shoulder at the concerned tone, but Clay kept staring at his son, now standing on the bottom-most step looking bitterly disappointed. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Grandma and Grandpa forgot to get a tree," Logan explained dejectedly, stroking the feathery wings of the Christmas angel he was carefully holding. The front of the figurine's flowing white gown had a square of fabric stitched to it, printed with the smiling faces of Sara and her older sister Isabel. "Mommy and Aunt Izzie belong at the top of a Christmas tree, and we don't have one," he ranted agitatedly.

"Calm down bud, it's not the end of the world," Clay attempted to reason with the boy. "Your Mommy and Aunt Izzie will always be your angels, with or without a Christmas tree. Okay?"

"But it's almost Christmas," Logan retorted, appealing to Quinn in desperation now. "We have to have a tree! It's not that dark outside yet, please?"

She shifted out of Clay's protective grip and smiled apologetically at the little boy; "Don't look at me, sweetie," she sighed and nodded at her stomach. "The baby is tired." She glanced at Clay encouragingly at the same time as Logan shifted his pleading gaze; "You should go, Clay," she urged. "The kid has a point; it's not a real Christmas without a decent tree."

"Oh God, he's making those eyes," Marie laughed, as Logan jumped down from the bottom step and skipped over to her. "How can you resist this kid, Clay?"

"Please, Dad?" Logan pleaded, holding Marie's hand as he danced around her in energetic circles. "Nana understands me," he grinned.

"I don't know, bud," Clay sighed, glancing helplessly at Quinn, who merely raised her eyebrows at him with a teasing smirk.

"I find it offensive that you think I need a babysitter around the clock, dork," she laughed. "Nice try, you have to go!"

"But Quinn, you're…" he began in protest, but she put her finger to his lips in a shushing gesture, making Logan cheer appreciatively.

"I am pregnant, that is all," she said firmly. "I'm going to take this baby to the shower and then to bed, you are going to get us a nice tree. End of discussion!" She winked at Logan over Clay's shoulder; "How was that, Wolverine? Are you happy now?"

"Way to go, Mom," he beamed. "That was awesome! If it worked anyway," he said, staring hopefully at Clay once more.

"Always does," Clay sighed, admitting defeat at last. "Go grab your jacket, kiddo."

"Finally!" Logan shifted his hopeful gaze to his grandmother instead. "You're coming too, right Nana?" he asked Marie, widening his eyes adorably again.

"Stop with the eyes, I'm in," she said affectionately, just as Sam and Lil came down the stairs.

"I swear that boy gets more energetic every day," Lil said fondly, but her gaze clouded with sadness when it landed on the Christmas angel Logan had abandoned on the coffee table in his excitement. "He's completely right; the tree is such a tradition in this house. I can't believe we forgot about it."

Sam's hand came down on her shoulder at the regretful tone, but Logan interrupted once more, pulling on his jacket as he re-entered the living room. "It's okay, Grandma," he said softly. "I'm very convincing, you know. I got Dad and Nana to say yes to the tree shopping already. This way we get to find one together. Cool, right?"

"Very cool," she smiled, pulling him into another tight hug. "Is there room for one more in that plan? I need to make up for forgetting about it in the first place."

"The Jeep seats seven, there's plenty of room," Clay told her. "What about you, Sam?"

"I'll pass," the old man said in his typical gruff voice. "The old knee has been acting up, good excuse to keep Quinn company. You find us a good one, alright buddy?"

"I will, Grandpa," the eight-year-old promised, his smile growing ever wider as the tree hunting party grew. "Now can we go, please?"

"I ran you a bubble bath," Sam told Quinn as the rest of the group prepared to leave for the Christmas tree lot. "Couldn't help over-hearing and that shower talk is nonsense, might as well unwind properly."

"That's so sweet, thanks." Quinn smiled gratefully at Sara's father as Clay came back in for a kiss goodbye. "You hear that? The pampering continues just fine without you, now have fun," she demanded.

"Ouch, you wound me, babe," he laughed and kissed her firmly. "See you soon Q; I love you."

"Right back at you," she smiled, propelling him towards the door. "Now go before it gets dark, or Logan abducts his grandmothers, just look at that."

Sure enough, Logan was already skipping down the garden path sandwiched between Lil and Marie. They had almost reached the Jeep when the eight-year-old finally glanced over his shoulder; "Hurry up, Dad," he urged impatiently, and Clay rolled his eyes affectionately as he finally let go of Quinn's hand.

"Go get your angels a great tree," Quinn called after the little boy, and he waved at her before climbing into the car. She leaned against the door frame as Clay hesitated on the porch and stared adoringly at her. "What now? Get going," she giggled, poking him teasingly. "I'll still be right here after you get the kid a tree, promise."

"You better be," he winked, pressing a final kiss to her cheek as the Jeep's horn blared and they turned to see Logan leaning towards the steering wheel from the back seat, caught in the act. "Rascal," Clay said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Take it easy Q, okay?"

"You worry too much, dork," she protested. "Baby and I will be squeaky clean by the time you get back, now go before Logan disturbs the whole neighborhood."

"Okay fine, I'm going," he sighed dramatically and headed for the car at last, just as Sam came up beside Quinn to watch the group depart.

"Such a knucklehead," Quinn said, shaking her head with a fond smile as the car disappeared from view.

"He's compensating," Sam pointed out wisely. "Between what happened to Sara and abandoning Logan for five years, you're lucky a little over-protectiveness is all you have to deal with."

"I know," she said seriously. "I'm not complaining; I just hope that Clay can stop feeling guilty about it all one day."

"We all want that," Sam agreed. "Are you feeling alright? How about that bath now?"

"That sounds lovely," she said gratefully. "I think Clay took the bags upstairs earlier."

"Probably," he nodded, guiding her slowly up the stairs. When they reached the guest bedroom, he laid a hand on her shoulder as she made to enter the room. "I just wanted to say thank you, Quinn," he said softly.

"For what?" she asked curiously, surprised by the sudden emotion shining in his eyes.

"For respecting my little girl the way you do," he said thickly. "Sometimes I think Clay still worries I'm upset with him for leaving. The truth is I'm very grateful he was fortunate enough to meet you…and so was Logan."

"They mean the world to me," she said seriously, touched by the confession. Quinn's hand drifted subconsciously to her stomach, and she smiled; "I will never forget that Sara is part of the reason this baby will have a wonderful big brother," she promised waveringly, swiping furiously at her eyes. "Now look, you're making me cry!"

"Don't," he said, drawing her into a strong hug. "This is your Christmas miracle, enjoy every minute of it. Blame a sappy old man if you must," he chuckled.

"Deal," she laughed and shoved the bedroom door open. "I'm gonna get cleaned up now, see you in a little while."

"Take your time, sweetheart," he said fondly and wandered away to give her privacy. Outside the window gentle snowfall steadily hit the garden path and began to coat the lawn in white, promising at least visually a fairytale holiday season.


	8. I Just Need You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissa and Bobby visit Katie to ask for help. Clay, Lil and Marie's Christmas tree shopping with Logan is cut short by a tragic phone call.

At the Atlanta psychiatric clinic, Melissa leaned back in her chair and swallowed dryly. It felt like she had been talking for hours, and only the subtle flashes in Katie's eyes had betrayed any emotion throughout the desperate tale. On the other side of the table separating them, Bobby had been curled up on Katie's lap for the better part of the hour since their arrival. "I can't handle this by myself anymore, Kate," she finished dismally, staring down at the scuff marks on the table to avoid seeing the desperation with which her son was clinging to Katie. "On Monday it was a porcelain Christmas angel, what if Kevin lashes out at my baby next?"

"He already has," Katie pointed out grimly, the weight of Bobby's head pressing against her shoulder, forcing out the words before she knew it. After that, a tense silence stretched out between the sisters, marked by the loudly ticking clock on the wall. "The guy has always been an ass, Mel," she said stiffly at last. "I don't know what you expect me to do about it now."

Melissa flinched at her sister's ruthless honesty, but Bobby spoke up before she could say a word. "Come home," he begged, sliding a tensely clenched fist down from her shoulder to the spot on her chest where he could feel her heartbeat if he placed his palm just right. "Dad broke your angel; we need the real thing back." Katie pressed a kiss to the boy's other hand and stared at Melissa across the table.

"What he said," the older brunette sighed with a wavering smile. "It honestly is as simple as that, all you have to do is come home with us."

Katie bit her lip, willing herself not to look down for fear of the tentative hope in Bobby's eyes breaking her resolve. "I…I can't," she whispered. Melissa shrank back in her chair as if Katie had physically slapped her, and Bobby wriggled off her lap and dashed towards the ward door.

Melissa leaped to her feet and blocked the eight-year-old's exit just in time, letting him cling to her instead. Stroking her son's hair soothingly, she glared across the room at Katie; "I hope you're happy now," she growled, willing her voice not to betray her disappointment. "Why the hell couldn't you just come home for him? It's hardly rocket science!"

"In here is the only place I get to feel sane," Katie said softly. "I wouldn't expect you to understand that. Your asshole of a husband is the perfect example of how the whole world treats me out there. Get treated like a freak long enough, and that's what you become. I don't want to lose myself again."

She fixed Melissa with a piercing stare, her sad eyes silently willing her sister to understand, but it was Bobby who broke the tense silence. "You're not a freak," he said in a subdued voice, shrugging his mother's firm grip off his shoulders and coming over to his aunt once again. "Please come home; Aunt Katie…we need you!"

Katie abandoned her seat and knelt in front of Bobby, pulling him close when she was level with him. "It means so much that you know I'm not crazy, champ…but you don't need me, okay?" The eight-year-old opened his mouth to protest, but Katie simply shook her head; "You are so much braver than I am," she said lovingly. "Remember that the next time your Dad gets nasty, will you?" She hugged the little boy tightly when his head sagged against her shoulder once more, but her dark blue eyes locked on Melissa. Leaning against the table's edge, her sister had her hands pressed over her eyes now and looked utterly defeated. "You are brave, and you are a fighter," she said firmly, aiming the words at Melissa even as she showered her nephew with kisses. "I'm sorry, Mel, I just…"

"Can't do it," her sister finished bitterly. "I heard you the first time, Kate."

"I don't blame you for being mad at me," Katie said sadly. "I know you probably think I'm a selfish bitch right now, but the last time I tried to cope with the real world, I almost committed murder. I don't trust myself out there anymore; it's too dangerous!"

"If you say so," Melissa choked, coming up behind her son, who Katie was still embracing protectively. "Bobby? We should probably get going, honey," she said gently, avoiding Katie's anguished gaze.

"I love you, Bobby," Katie whispered, giving his shaking fingers a final squeeze. "Please believe I'd be with you in a heartbeat if I could."

"I believe you can, but you don't know it," he said simply. "I wish you would see that the world isn't so scary together. I miss you, Auntie Kay."

"I'm sorry, buddy," she gasped, not sure if it was his toddlerhood nickname for her or the icy look on Melissa's face that was expanding the lump in her throat.

"I guess we'll see you around, Katie," said Melissa coldly, willing her mask of indifference to stay in place long enough to get out of the dismal clinic. She ushered Bobby out of Katie's room, a difficult task when he kept staring over his shoulder at his aunt's devastated expression.

There wasn't a soul in the long hallway they had been escorted along to Katie's room by then, and Melissa couldn't help being painfully aware of their footsteps echoing off the walls of the narrow corridor. She glanced at Bobby, who had fallen worryingly silent as soon as they'd left Katie's presence. Melissa slipped her arm around her son's shoulders and halted his slow, shuffling footsteps with the simple touch. "Are you doing okay, baby?" she asked gently, fully aware that he wasn't even before Bobby shook his head.

"You promised that would work," he moaned accusingly, but even though his eyes held a hint of anger, the eight-year-old leaned into her hug desperately. "She was supposed to fix everything!"

"I know," Melissa sighed, pressing him as close to her as possible. "She just…has to fix herself first," she said carefully. Melissa quickly wiped her eyes when he was nuzzling against her and didn't notice, determined not to crack. "We'll be okay, kiddo," she promised as convincingly as she could.

"I don't want Dad to hurt you again," Bobby whispered despairingly, his tone heart-breaking. "Don't say he won't because that's a lie!"

"Stop right there," she interrupted, barely holding back tears now. "Bobby, it's not your job to protect me, okay? It goes the other way around last time I checked."

"But Mom-," he began in protest, falling silent at another touch from her soft and gentle hands.

"No buts," she said firmly, lifting his downcast gaze with a single finger to his quivering chin. "Your Dad's in Charlotte on a case for the next two days; we'll stay in a hotel around here tonight and figure out the next move from there. Okay?" She kissed the top of his head comfortingly. "Us against the world, right? I promise you; we will be okay."

"I love you, Mom," he sighed, holding her hand tightly as they headed for the clinic exit at last.

"Oh kid, you have no idea," she shot back, throwing a fleeting glance over her shoulder as they left the building. Whatever Kevin put them through in the future was her lone battle now.

In Raleigh meanwhile, Logan was weaving his way between the neat rows of pines at the local Christmas tree lot. The eight-year-old moved with an abundance of energy that made his two watchful grandmothers smile knowingly at each other whenever they inevitably lost sight of him in the cluster of festive trees. "Grandma, look at this one!" he squealed, waving Lil over to a pine that looked just like the five others he had pounced on before it.

As Lil obligingly examined the latest pine of choice, Marie wandered over to Clay, who was leaning against a tree a little further down the row and checking his phone. "That better not be work," she scolded him. "We just talked about this."

"Not work," he mumbled sheepishly, tucking the phone back in his pocket. "Worrying about Quinn."

"Well, don't do that either," she advised. "She's a big girl, and Sam is perfectly capable of taking care of her for a few hours." She held out her hand to him; "Now come on before Logan's energy burns Lil out completely."

Clay slipped an arm around his mother's shoulders as they strolled between the trees looking for Logan and Lil. "You're the best anti-stress medicine in the world; you know that, Mom?"

"Whatever works, honey," she laughed. "Christmas is no time to be stressed, silly fellow!"

"It feels like it's going to be a great one," he sighed contentedly, as delighted giggles told them Logan was lurking somewhere very nearby. "Found something you like, Wolverine?" he asked when the hyper eight-year-old came into view behind an unusually large pine. "I don't think this one will fit in Grandma and Grandpa's living room."

"Yeah," Logan sighed; "Grandma was saying this one would only fit if we all moved out, and there's no fun in that."

"No fun at all," Clay smirked, ruffling the little boy's hair when he was within arm's reach. "What about that one?" he suggested, gesturing at a smaller tree further down the row. "Go easy on the yanking, kiddo." Clay watched Logan drag both his grandmothers towards the tree he had pointed out, the boy's delight was palpable even from a distance. He caught his mother's exasperated glance over her shoulder when his cell phone began to vibrate persistently. "I'll be right with you," he promised apologetically, flashing a quick smile at her. "Quinn probably wants to say goodnight or something."

Shaking her head affectionately, Marie left him at it to stand beside Lil, who was watching Logan circling the medium-sized pine. "Does this one pass the test?" she asked, and Lil shrugged.

"I'm not even sure what the criteria of the perfect tree are, ask junior," she said, as Logan completed his scrutiny of the tree at last. "Well, that grin is certainly a promising start," she smiled as he stopped in his tracks right next to them. "What do you think, sweetie? Is this the one?"

"It looks pretty cool," Logan beamed approvingly, craning his neck to examine the tip of the pine. "The angel needs to fit up there," he said, pointing at the top-most branch. "I can't see it properly, can one of you still pick me up?"

"Good joke, little man," Marie laughed, while Lil simply shook her head in amusement. "We're tough but not that tough. You have been doing a lot of growing, remember?"

"Yeah," he giggled sheepishly and leaned into her fond embrace for a moment. Then he turned hopefully and called out to his father across the lot. "Dad, I need some superpowers over here!"

"He's talking to your Mom back home," Marie pointed out, as Clay hung up the phone in the distance and tucked it away again.

"I think she'll like this one," Logan said, gazing happily at the tree while his grandmothers watched Clay approaching them oddly hastily. "Dad, can you pick me up for a second?" Logan asked, too busy staring in awe at the tree to notice that his father's face was white as a sheet.

But Marie hadn't missed the look of pure shock on Clay's face and quickly grabbed his shaking hands as Lil pressed Logan close to her, frowning in concern. "Something's wrong," Marie said instinctively, a statement rather than a question. "What was that phone call about, baby?"

"That was Sam," he whispered as if every word was causing physical pain. "He said…he said Quinn was taking a long time in the bath, and when he went up to check on her, he found her unconscious."

"What?" Lil gasped in dismay. "Are they at the hospital now?"

"Yeah," he nodded shakily, forcing a wavering smile for Logan's sake. "We have to go, bud, sorry about your tree."

"Is Mom going to be okay?" the eight-year-old asked fearfully, leading the way back to the car across a glistening carpet of fresh snow, his prized Christmas tree forgotten.

"I don't know," said Clay softly, still trembling so violently that he almost dropped the car keys.

After watching him fumble for a moment, Marie sighed and snatched them from him; "Alright, that's it," she declared forcefully. "Don't even think about driving, in the back, now!"

"Hurry up," he urged, climbing in behind the driver's seat without protest.

"Hang tight, everybody," Marie said grimly, exchanging a worried look with Lil when they caught Clay's tortured expression in the rearview mirror. "Think positive, kid," she said firmly, but he just shuddered and pressed his head against the frosted over windowpane. A single phone call had turned the magical holiday season into a complete nightmare before Christmas, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

**A / N: The really painful part starts now, enjoy everyone! xx**


	9. Weight Of The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay arrives at the hospital to devastating news about the baby.

"Take Logan home." The hoarse request was the first time Clay had said a word since Marie had navigated the Jeep to Raleigh's main hospital in a frantic rush. With his mother off in search of coffee, the agonizing wait for news of Quinn's condition had robbed him of the ability to speak.

The eight-year-old, who had been dozing lightly with his head propped on Lil's lap, wriggled upright in instant protest; "No! Dad, why can't I stay?"

"Come here," Clay said softly, holding out his hand to the little boy. With Sam and Lil looking on sadly, Logan shifted from his spot between them on the lumpy waiting room couch to his father's lap. "You can't stay because a hospital waiting room is no place for little boys so close to bedtime." He tried to smile but only ended up squeezing his son harder than ever; "I love you, Wolverine, you know that?"

"I know," Logan said absently; "But Mom is still…"

"Mom is going to be fine," Clay interrupted firmly, but one look at Sam and Lil told him his calm exterior didn't have them the least bit fooled. "We couldn't even get you a tree, don't you want to go home and hang the angel up somewhere to welcome her back?"

"That's a great idea," Logan admitted thoughtfully. "Grandma always says Mommy watches over me; maybe she can make Mama Q better too."

"There's a thought," Clay nodded shakily and nudged Logan into his grandmother's waiting arms. "Goodnight kid, we'll see you soon, I promise."

Sam lingered with him as Lil guided Logan to the elevators; "I should have checked in sooner when she stayed in the bathroom so long," he said ruefully. "I'm sorry, son."

"It's not your fault," Clay sighed, shaking his head stiffly. He had stood up to hug Lil goodbye and now dropped back into the hard plastic waiting room chair, rather than the couch. "I just…I don't know if I can do this again." He looked straight up into the old man's blue eyes, shining with sympathy; "I don't know how you and Lil found the strength to bury both your children," he said honestly. "I don't think I ever told you how much respect I have for that courage, because…"

"Clay, stop!" Sam interrupted. "That's very sweet, but you're a lot tougher than you think. We weren't the only ones who let Sara go, you did too," he said slowly. "Quinn is going to be fine; she's always seemed like a fighter."

"You don't know that," Clay moaned, practically burning a hole in the floor with the intensity of his troubled gaze.

Before Sam could say another word, Marie's voice drifted down the hall towards them. "Don't know what, exactly? We all know Quinn is a fighter; you both are. As for her current condition, Sam may not have it on good authority, but I found someone who does." Clay's head jerked up to see his mother approaching with a paper coffee cup in each hand and a nurse trailing closely behind her. "I'll take it from here," she said softly, and Sam backed away with a nod and headed for the parking lot at last. "Drink up," she urged, shoving one of the coffees into Clay's hand. But he ignored her and slammed the cup down on a teetering pile of old gossip magazines before leaping to his feet.

"Where's Quinn?" he asked urgently, staring at the plump little nurse's cropped blonde curls to avoid seeing the sympathy in her eyes. It was a look he had seen too often after Sara's death when even old friends ran out of ways to express their condolences. "How…how did this happen?"

Marie grimaced at the nurse and braced her hands firmly on Clay's shoulders; "Honey, look at me," she said forcefully. "Before she says a single word, I need you to just take a deep breath for me, okay?"

"I can't," he gasped, barely aware of anything except the burning sensation in his eyes from holding back tears for far too long. "Not till I know that Quinn's okay, I just…can't!"

"Okay, it's okay," she chanted, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down his back as Clay squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his head against her shoulder. She didn't ask what exactly it was he couldn't do, because the answer was painfully obvious. Breathing itself had become as challenging as feeling anything except pure anguish when even just the thought of losing Quinn was tearing him further apart with every passing minute.

"I suppose the first question is as good a place as any to start," the nurse began at an insistent glance from Marie. Forcing a shaky breath, Clay turned to face the short blonde professional who held the fate of his heart and soul in her hands. "From what we could determine, your wife fell unconscious due to an iron deficiency," she explained. "Her pregnancy caused some symptoms associated with anemia, in this case, dizziness which caused her to pass out. It didn't seem like she was on iron supplements for the pregnancy, and she probably should have been."

"See?" Marie said encouragingly, squeezing Clay's fingers gently. "An iron deficiency is nothing that supplements and a more careful diet can't fix."

"There's more, Mrs. Evans," the nurse said apologetically, consulting the clipboard in her hand as Clay began to tremble once more with the hellish anticipation of it all. "The iron deficiency itself wasn't dangerously severe, but the fall was."

"Is Quinn going to be okay?" Clay pressed desperately. "Look, I know this is routine for you, but my first wife died completely uncontrollably a few years ago. I can't lose Quinn too!"

"I understand, Mr. Evans," the plump little woman assured him with that unbearably sympathetic grimace again. "She hit her head quite badly and might not remember the fall, but physically she'll recover soon enough." The nurse paused and hugged her clipboard close to her chest; "Emotional recovery might take longer, I'm truly sorry to say."

"What do you mean?" Marie asked impatiently, the utter desperation in Clay's eyes spoke volumes as he leaned into her comforting embrace once more.

"The way your wife fell caused a miscarriage," the blonde said softly. "I'm truly very sorry to tell you this, but she lost the baby."

The nurse's words had delivered a final, fatal emotional blow. Clay was barely even aware his knees had buckled until he made contact with the hard plastic waiting room chair his mother had quickly pulled up behind him. "No," he choked, barely coherent once his hands pressed shakily over his eyes.

"Can we see her?" Marie asked softly, dropping into the chair next to her son in despair. "He's probably going to start hyperventilating any minute without proof that Quinn will truly be alright," she pointed out grimly.

"Yes, of course," the nurse said quickly. "Follow me this way; we moved her to one of the post-operative recovery rooms. There was a critical amount of blood loss by the time she came to the hospital."

Clay had no idea how he was even still able to move as the oblivious professional droned on, the dread and grief was so utterly paralyzing. Despite the rush of blood seeming to pound in his ears and muffling her words, he physically flinched at the ongoing diagnosis. His mother's hand stayed pressed firmly against his back, and Clay felt like the gentle pressure was the only reason he kept walking.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, a concerned frown deepening the wrinkles of many years spent worrying about him.

"You seriously don't want to know," he whispered back as if speaking any louder would worsen Quinn's condition. "She…she promised she'd be waiting at home, safe. This situation doesn't feel real, and the last time I had this feeling…"

"She's not Sara," Marie cut in sharply, and his shuddering gasp told her she had hit a nerve. "She may not be safe at home right now, but she will be, I promise!" The nurse came to a halt in front of Quinn's room at that moment, and Clay stared through the transparent glass door at the bed where she lay motionless. "You're going to get through this, kid," his mother promised earnestly, running her hands across his cheeks as a few stray tears broke free. "But the only way to do that is together, understand? She needs you to be brave right now." She squeezed his shaking fingers tightly and pulled him through the sliding door towards Quinn's bed. "I know you can do that."

"What if I can't?" he murmured, the question muffled as his head bowed against Quinn's rising and falling chest in exhausted desperation. "I can't lose her too!"

From the other side of the bed, his mother leaned over and stroked his hair tenderly. "You're not listening to me," she said softly. "The only loss here is the baby. It's awful and tragic, but you'll get through it together, okay? And if you can't, then I'm here, always."

As darkness to match Clay's devastation fell over Raleigh's local hospital, Melissa and Bobby found themselves at a roadside motel half-way between Atlanta and Tree Hill. For over two hours, they had driven in silence, both sad and out of words. Katie turning them away hadn't been part of the plan, Melissa thought miserably to herself as she clicked the creaking door to their assigned room shut behind her and leaned against it with her eyes closed for a moment. Across the room, a glass door led to a small balcony overlooking the highway, which they had just come off, where traffic was still whizzing past noisily. Bobby let go of her hand for what felt like the first time in ages and crossed over to the double bed against the left wall. The worn bedsprings creaked when he flopped down on it and stared up at the mysteriously stained ceiling. "Now what?" her son mused, obviously not addressing anyone in particular. He sat up and bounced up and down slightly, testing the mattress. "This thing is way lumpy," he frowned as it sagged pathetically under his weight.

"It'll have to do," Melissa sighed absently, coming over to join him as her son kicked off his shoes. She bit her lip hard as she sat down beside Bobby, willing away the ache in her heart as she watched him. "I'm so sorry for how today went down, kiddo," she said softly. "I know how convinced you were that Aunt Katie would help us. I wish she had, too. Are you okay?"

"I'm probably more okay than you," he pointed out. Melissa didn't even realize she was crying until Bobby's fingers swiped against her cheeks. "Don't cry, Mom," he begged. "It's like you said, right? Us against the world?"

"Always," she breathed as he pressed his head into her lap. "Your Aunt Katie was right about one thing, you know?"

"Oh yeah?" he said disbelievingly, forcing his drooping eyelids open again to stare up at her skeptically.

"Yeah," she said with a sad smile. "You are so much braver than she is." She bent down and pressed a kiss to his forehead; "I'm so proud that you're my son."

"I wish Dad felt that way," Bobby sighed, and Melissa frowned as she adjusted the assortment of pillows behind her to try and get comfortable.

"Come here," she said firmly, giving up on the hopeless bedding as the little boy nuzzled against her. "It sucks that we don't have a choice except to go home, but I won't let him hurt you, understand? Not ever! I love you way too much, squirt. Don't you dare forget that, alright?"

"I won't," he promised. "Because I love you too." He crawled under the blanket and made a face; "Oh God, this thing is itchy."

Melissa almost laughed at the randomness of the complaint in the middle of their grim conversation. "It's just for one night," she said, tucking the offending blanket snugly around her son and pressing another kiss to his cheek. "We should really try and get some sleep now," she said softly, draping her arms around the eight-year-old and pulling him close again.

For a long moment, there was silence, but just when Melissa was sure that Bobby was asleep, he spoke again. "Hey, Mom?"

"What?" she asked wearily, trailing her fingers across his back as if he was a baby again.

"I won't let Dad hurt you either," he vowed fiercely, and her breath hitched in her throat at the grave tone. Too overwhelmed to speak, Melissa clung to her son in the darkness. It felt like hours later that she finally fell asleep with what felt like the weight of the world on her shoulders.

**A / N Thanks for reading everyone! xx**


	10. A Hard Day's Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Clay sits at Quinn's bedside, Logan's grandparents ponder how to break the news of the miscarriage to him.

When the clock struck midnight after that hellish evening at the hospital, officially making it Christmas Eve, Logan Evans was still lying wide awake in his bed. He punched his pillow in frustration and sat up, staring at the bedroom window overlooking the yard. Outside, gentle snowflakes had been falling for hours, promising a white Christmas. But the boy's gaze was drawn to the window itself, where Sam had helped him secure the infamous Christmas angel with a piece of string taped to the window earlier. Kicking off his covers, Logan wandered over to the window and touched the picture of Sara and Izzie's faces stitched to the angel's gown. "Keep Mama Q safe, okay, Mommy?" he whispered pleadingly in the pressing silence. Suddenly he spotted a pair of cab headlights glowing a little way from the garden gate and dashed for the stairs, much to the shock of his grandparents.

"What are you doing up, buddy?" Sam asked him, snapping off the television quickly. "It's way past your bedtime."

From beside his grandfather on the couch, Lil faced the eight-year-old with a sad smile; "I'm not too surprised he's up," she said. "Couldn't get to sleep, sweetie?"

"Nana's home, I saw the cab arrive," Logan said simply, rather than answering the question. He charged down the entrance hallway as a gust of cold air announced Marie's arrival. Sam and Lil found him wrapped tightly in her arms by the time they followed the energetic little boy towards the front door.

The grey streaks in Clay's mother's ginger hair seemed more prominent than before, even by the dim hallway light. "What are you doing awake at this hour, Wolverine?" she asked, pressing a firm kiss to the top of his head.

"I couldn't stop thinking," he said softly. "I ended up worrying about Mom and Dad and the baby and just…everything, I guess. There was no place left for sleep after all that."

He gave Marie a tight hug, even as Lil placed her hands gently on his shoulders; "How about a bedtime story, squirt?" she suggested. "Go get back in bed; we'll all meet you there in a few minutes."

"You promise?" he asked seriously. He stared after Marie as she ducked sideways into the kitchen, with a shaking hand pressed over her mouth. "Something bad happened; I can feel it."

"It's going to be okay, honey," Lil promised softly, nudging the little boy towards the staircase. "Sam, why don't you tuck him into bed? I'll find out what exactly is going on here."

"Alright," her husband nodded and pushed the protesting eight-year-old up the stairs ahead of him. "You heard your Grandma, champ, let's go!"

Once both Sam and her grandson were out of sight, Lil followed Marie into the kitchen. She found the exhausted redhead sitting at the breakfast table with her head in her hands and hesitantly took the seat opposite her. "I didn't mean to crack in front of the kid," she sniffed regretfully, already wiping her eyes furiously. Lil crossed over to the counter, ripped a paper towel from the kitchen roll, and handed it to her with a sympathetic grimace. "That boy is too smart. He already knows it's bad news, doesn't he?"

"He was there when Sam called," Lil pointed out with a sigh as she retook a seat. "What happened at the hospital?"

"Quinn lost the baby," Marie said faintly. "I only even came home because the nurse made me leave when visiting hours ended. Clay just…completely fell apart when the nurse took us to see Quinn; she was still unconscious when I left. Severe blood loss apparently," she explained miserably. "I tried to stay positive for him because that's what parents do, but…God, it was horrible!"

"Poor dears," Lil said softly. "Are you alright? I know how hard it is to watch your child suffer; let me tell you. Sara's older sister had cancer. She, um, she went into a coma a few days before Clay and Sara graduated college, you know."

"That's awful," Marie murmured compassionately, squeezing the older woman's hand gently. "Didn't Sara's ballet class have some sort of recital at the graduation ceremony? I remember being annoyed that Clay refused to sit with me much that day, considering his sister came over from England for the ceremony."

"That brings me to my next point," Lil smiled affectionately, despite the painful memories. "Your son has a terrible habit of undervaluing himself, always has. I wasn't even there for Sara's graduation, because doctors were trying a final surgery on Isabel at the time. I told Sam not to tell our little girl that her sister could die immediately, but he did for whatever reason," she sighed as if that part of the story still made no sense whatsoever to her. "He told her Izzie was dying before the biggest dance recital of her academic year, can you believe that?" Marie shook her head slowly, not sure how to respond to that, and Lil continued. "Honestly, there is only one reason Sara got through that dance even remotely emotionally stable," she said fervently. "Can you guess what that reason was?"

Marie's eyes widened in understanding as she wiped away the last traces of her tears; "I think I can," she said softly. "Clay never let her out of his sight that night, even when she was up on stage. Now I remember, it killed him to see her so broken."

"That's exactly my point," Lil carried on fondly. "Clay still beats himself up for walking away from Logan when fate completely sucked for them both," she stressed. "But it seems like he forgets the fact that when Sara was completely devastated, he was there for her every step of the way. That's why I have full faith that he'll get through this, and Quinn will, too. They just need reminding how much they've already survived, don't you think?"

"I sure hope you're right," Marie sighed wearily, but one glance at Sara's mother told her the older woman had zoned out of the conversation. The level of sadness in her eyes reflected too many tragic losses for one lifetime. "We promised Logan a bedtime story," Marie reminded Lil quietly as they started up the stairs to the bedrooms above. But despite her distracted nod, Lil's mind was far away, imagining the events of that fateful day they had just discussed.

_May 2008 – Ten Years Earlier_

_Samuel Kay scanned the crowd of proud parents and soon to be Duke University graduates swarming outside the campus auditorium, as he had been since arriving from Raleigh. "I still don't see Sara anywhere," he sighed into the cell phone pressed to his ear. "How's Izzie holding up?"  
_

_"Better than her mother, she's still down and out," Lil told him softly. She was sitting at their older daughter's bedside at Raleigh's local hospital, while Sam was attending Sara's graduation ceremony in Durham. "I don't think she's going to wake up this time, Sam," she said, a strangled sob muffling the gut-wrenching confession. "You know how these doctors like to talk all fancy, but my heart is telling me this is it."  
_

_"You can't think like that, love," he cut across her broken voice sharply. "She will wake up; she has to!" His gaze swept the packed campus grounds once more, and this time spotted his younger daughter waving at him from the entrance to the auditorium; "What do I tell Sara?" he asked carefully. "Didn't Izzie promise her she'd be here?"  
_

_"Cancer doesn't care much for promises," Lil pointed out. "Be careful…just wish her luck for now, okay? Don't tell her how bad it is just before her big show. That'll crush her!"  
_

_"You want me to lie?" he asked skeptically, slowing his pace so that this conversation would be over before he reached Sara. "Honey, I don't think that's such a great idea. She'll be suspicious you're not here for one thing," he pointed out.  
_

_"This ballet recital is a big deal, Sam," his wife snapped and then sighed apologetically. "She'll hate to mess it up if you upset her right now."  
_

_"We'll see what happens," he said abruptly. "I better go, our girl is getting jumpy here. I love you, okay? Hang in there," he finished softly and hung up after Lil said her reluctant goodbye._

" _Finally," Sara squealed, launching into his arms as soon as Sam hung up the phone and plastered a quick smile on his face. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming, Daddy," she said mock-accusingly, eyeing him with the trademark twinkle in her beautiful brown eyes.  
_

_"Are you kidding me, princess? Wouldn't have missed this for the world," he promised fondly, hugging her long and hard. "You look beautiful; how are the nerves?"  
_

_"All over the place," she laughed. "Miss July is a slave-driver, but I'm sure it'll be worth it if tonight goes well. Send my batch out with a bang, you know?"  
_

_"I do know," he nodded as her roommate and best friend Jessica Parker shuffled over to them, looking upset. "Hi Jess, is something the matter?"  
_

_"My parents couldn't make it from England for tonight," the slender brunette explained, trying unsuccessfully to look as though this fact didn't bother her. "Even Lily made it for crying out loud!"  
_

_Her British accent grew more pronounced in the frustrated agitation, and Sara squeezed her hand sympathetically. "Lily is Clay's sister," she explained to her father. "Jessie knows her and Clay's brother-in-law James very well."  
_

_"That's nice," Sam said absently, even as he felt a rush of relief. "So Clay's definitely around tonight?"  
_

_"Of course, it's his graduation too," Sara pointed out distractedly, busy reassuring Jessica that she would be great in the dance later on. Finally, she fixed her father with a curious stare; "Speaking of absent parents, where's Mom anyway?" she asked.  
_

_"She can't make it," he said reluctantly, the moment of truth was inevitable. "Listen…there's something I need to tell you, princess. It's, uh…it's about Izzie."_

"I can't imagine it," Marie said fervently, jerking Lil out of her miserable reverie just in front of Logan's bedroom door. "Losing one of my kids, I mean…let alone both. You are so incredibly brave."

"I wonder about that sometimes," Lil murmured sadly. "Hey, losing a husband is no walk in the park either; you've had your share of hardship. I would have suffered so much more without Sam through the fate of our girls. God, I didn't mean to get so morbid on you…it was so long ago."

"It's been less than ten years since you lost Sara, it's perfectly understandable," the redhead assured her. "You know that habit Clay and Sara had of doing things on the count of two? He gets that from his father," she confessed. "My husband believed that the conventional count of three, leading up to doing anything, was too long. Particularly in unpleasant situations, counting to two got whatever it was over and done with sooner."

"That makes sense in a weirdly philosophical kind of way," Lil smiled. "Sara always loved that little quirk. I do hope Clay is hanging in there; hospitals are such depressing places."

"Tell me about it," Marie sighed, as the cell phone tucked in her pocket began to vibrate violently, as if on cue. "I guess we'll find out now, that's him," she said quickly and answered the call as Lil entered Logan's bedroom. "Hi honey," she said softly; "How are you doing?"

"Not great," he murmured, and she could tell it was an understatement just from the crack in his voice. "I just…I need Quinn to wake up, like right now!"

"She needs the rest, sweetie," Marie pointed out gently. "She's going to wake up, you hear me? But if you don't get some sleep soon, you won't be able to help her when she does."

"I don't think sleep is even possible," he sighed heavily. "It's stupid, but I still can't breathe right…just, you know, seeing Quinn like this is so…I don't even know what."

"Scary?" his mother supplied sympathetically. "I know it is, baby, but just remember what I told you. She's not Sara, and she's going to be just fine as soon as that drip replenishes her lost blood."

"How's Logan?" he asked, changing the subject to avoid dwelling on his desperate fears.

"In bed at last," Marie told him. "He's been anxious all evening, obviously. Should we tell him what happened so you won't have to?" She leaned against Logan's closed bedroom door as she spoke, just able to make out Sam and Lil's hushed voices on the other side.

"You decide," Clay sighed absently, and she understood just what he wasn't saying. The idea of telling Logan about there being no more baby would make the whole thing too hellishly real to bear. "Give him a big kiss for me, okay?"

"Consider it done," she promised. "Don't worry about Logan right now, alright? Just promise me you'll at least try and get some rest," she finished pleadingly.

"I'll try," he said reluctantly. "Thanks, Mom, you're the best. Love you."

"I love you more, kid," she said fervently. "See you sometime tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah," he breathed in that miserably raspy tone again, and then the line went dead. With Clay's sadness weighing heavily on her mind, Marie carefully cracked Logan's bedroom door open and stepped into the dark chamber. With the nightlight illuminating his peaceful features, the little boy was fast asleep at long last. Lil was standing by the foot of the bed and glanced questioningly at her, but Marie had eyes only for Sam. Sitting on the edge of Logan's bed, the older man's hand was trapped in the eight-year old's grip, even in his deep sleep.

Marie crossed over to the window overlooking the snow-covered yard and stared at the Christmas angel, fastened to the glass. "Now I understand the dilemma you faced when it came to telling Sara how sick her sister was," she said compassionately.

"What do you mean?" Lil asked softly, joining her in front of the customized figurine and taking in every detail of Sara and Isabel's happy faces.

"I thought it would help Clay if we talked to Logan about the miscarriage before he brings Quinn home, you know?" Marie explained. She glanced at Logan, who had rolled over in his sleep, finally allowing Sam to move again. "But whatever we do, Christmas is ruined for the poor kid. It's just so unfair," she sighed.

In the room where Quinn lay recuperating at Raleigh's local hospital, there was deafening silence once Clay hung up on his mother. The steady beep of the machine monitoring her heartbeat was somehow simultaneously rhythmic and yet unnerving, the only sound steadily penetrating his dark thoughts. He lifted her motionless hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm; "You need to wake up, Q. I mean it! I can't bear to get lost again, you hear?" He stared, unblinkingly, at the blood trickling slowly through her IV line for a moment; "More than lost, really," he continued. "Doomed is the word…just open those pretty eyes, okay? Please." The final word slipped out as nothing more than a pained hiss of desperation. But despite the lump swelling in his throat and making it even harder to breathe, Clay couldn't cry. "Till kingdom come," he gasped as his eyes began to burn fiercely again. "You promised."

**A / N Well damn, this story is getting more painful at every turn. Enjoy the feels everyone xx**


	11. Katie's Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Atlanta, Melissa and Bobby beg Katie for help with Kevin's abuse.

Mealtimes at Atlanta's renowned psychiatric clinic were always a stressful business. Nurse Amy Miller was glad to be nearing the end of her shift after spoon-feeding an inmate so dangerously delusional he had to be strapped to his bed at all times. Massaging her aching head, she made her way down the white-washed corridor to Katie Ryan's room. The bipolar brunette had been very good about taking her medication lately and was easily one of Amy's favorite patients. It didn't hurt that she could feed herself just fine either. She hesitated in front of Katie's room and frowned at the darkness beyond the glass panel in the door, which was unusual.

"Katie?" she called, knocking for good measure. When there was no answer she barged in quickly, it was protocol after all. She flicked on the light switch and stared at the sight before her in surprise: Katie was shoving her untouched dinner around on her plate, eyeing it as if hoping the dish held the answers to the universe. "Hey, what's going on here?" Amy asked, pulling tight the ponytail her long red hair was tied back in as she approached the bipolar woman. "Not hungry?"

"I guess not," Katie sighed, shoving the tray away from her at last. Amy was just about to ask her what the need for darkness was when the brunette spoke again; "Have you ever made a decision that hurt someone else and regretted it?"

"I'm sure everyone has at some point," Amy said carefully, random questions like this from mental patients tended to have a deeper meaning than first met the eye. She pulled out the chair opposite Katie and hesitantly took a seat. "Have you?"

"You could say that," Katie grimaced. "I kind of broke a promise today." With that, mysterious statement, she fell silent again, so the only sound was the fork scraping across her plate.

"Your sister came by today, right?" Amy ventured gently. "Did something happen?"

"I broke my promise," the brunette repeated forcefully. "He was so little…I was being selfish, simple as that."

Her speech was becoming less coherent with every word spilling out of her mouth, and Amy didn't wait to ask who Katie meant. "Don't move," she warned. "I'm just gonna run and get you a round of lithium, okay? You're not making any sense, Katie."

"I never do apparently," Katie mumbled, rocking back and forth slowly as Amy raced out to the storage room where all their clinic's medications were kept.

_September 2010 – Eight Years Earlier_

_The screams bouncing off the maternity ward walls of New Brunswick County Hospital created a more unnerving symphony than anything Katie Ryan had ever heard at the psych ward she frequented in Atlanta. "Screw you, Riley," she muttered under her breath when a quick glance left and right along the long hallway proved her sister's boyfriend Kevin was still nowhere in sight.  
_

_"Miss Ryan!" The midwife's voice reached her in unison with a deep groan from her poor sister and Katie ran back to Melissa's bedside. "Not long now," the professional told them encouragingly. "This little one is in a hurry."  
_

_Katie scowled at the cheery woman as she took her sister's hand, too furious at Kevin to think about anything else. "Keep going, Mel," she urged, and Melissa's fingers clamped hard around her wrist, as right on cue another contraction forced her to toss her head back with a hiss of pain.  
_

_"Where is he?" she whispered desperately when the contraction subsided for a moment.  
_

_"It doesn't matter," Katie told her firmly, the crack in her sister's voice even through her breathless exhaustion broke her heart. "I'm here, okay? Just concentrate on your breathing, nothing else matters."  
_

_"I need you to push on the next contraction," the midwife informed Melissa and Katie watched her sister's eyes widen in fear.  
_

_"Kate," she whimpered, and Katie picked up the damp cloth abandoned on the bedside table and dabbed gently at Melissa's forehead.  
_

_"You can do this, sis," she said soothingly. "I'm right here, I promise. Now it's time for junior to join us," she smiled. "You've been waiting for this for so long, just give one more push!"  
_

_The scared whimper turned into a long wail of agony as the final contraction hit. Melissa was still panting loudly when a baby's healthy first cry mingled with her ragged breathing. "Congratulations," the midwife smiled as she wiped the newborn clean. "It's a boy." She glanced at the door to the maternity ward, then at Melissa sagging against her pillow as she struggled to catch her breath. "Will the father be joining us?"_

" _Doubtful," Katie muttered darkly, the proud grin sliding off her face as her sister's eyes filled with tears again. She squeezed Melissa's fingers tightly; "Don't waste tears on that idiot, okay? You did great, sis."  
_

_"How would Auntie like to cut the cord then?" the midwife suggested, already with the air of one who had too many places to be and not enough hours in the day.  
_

_Katie's dark blue eyes widened in shock, but Melissa shot her an exhausted, and yet encouraging, smile. "Do it," she said softly. "I want to see him already, get a move on."  
_

_"Wow," Katie breathed, staring at the newborn in awe when he was cradled safely in her arms minutes later. "Oh God Mel, he's perfect," she sighed dreamily, completely in love already. "Did you figure out a name yet?"  
_

_"Kevin never really wanted to have that conversation," Melissa admitted sadly and reached for her son, who Katie handed over reluctantly. "I um… sometimes I think he was ready to break up when I got pregnant at that New Year's party." The baby yawned at that moment and grabbed a fistful of her wide hospital gown in his tiny hand as he curled closely against her chest. The contact made a smile break out on the new mother's face; "But anyway, I was thinking about it," she said. "You know how Dad's name was Robert and he always hated how folks at work insisted on being all formal?" Katie nodded, but her confusion must have shown on her face because Melissa elaborated immediately; "Well I was thinking of just going with Bob," she said, staring down at the sleeping baby's tiny features as her sister grinned.  
_

_"Bobby Ryan," Katie said experimentally. "Your Aunt Katie is completely in love with you already, just for your information."  
_

_"You like it, huh?" Melissa said hopefully, and Katie took her hand and squeezed it again.  
_

_"It's as perfect as he is," she smiled. "You have got to stop looking for approval Mel, the name is great, and he's gorgeous, just like my beautiful big sister. And cue the waterworks again," she giggled as tears streaked down Melissa's face again. "Stop it!"  
_

_"Blame the hormones," her sister laughed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She met Katie's starry-eyed gaze seriously; "Thank you for being here," she said softly. "Can you promise me something, Kate?"  
_

_"Anything," Katie promised quickly, still unable to wipe the smile off her face as she eyed the baby boy affectionately.  
_

_"I get the feeling Kevin didn't want this," Melissa sighed. "He's been increasingly distant for months, as the pregnancy progressed, you know?"  
_

_"Noticed," Katie said coolly, keeping her negative opinion of Kevin to herself for the moment. "What are you getting at, hon?"  
_

_"Promise me you'll always love him," Melissa begged, gripping Katie's hand to drive the urgency of her plea home.  
_

_"I already adore him, Mel," Katie pointed out, but her sister shook her head.  
_

_"I mean if anything ever happens to me," she said seriously. "Kate, I need you to promise me you'll protect him!"  
_

_"Morbid much?" Katie grimaced at her sister. "You're not going anywhere, silly."  
_

_"Please Kate, promise me," Melissa repeated, and as tears welled in her eyes again, Katie thought it was best to give in.  
_

_She offered Melissa her pinky finger and looked her straight in the eyes as Bobby slept on peacefully. "I'll always keep him safe, okay? I promise!"_

"Here we go." The sound of the plastic pill cup hitting the table when Amy put it down shattered Katie's daydream. The redhead was pouring her a glass of water when Katie slowly looked up, her dark blue eyes glazed over with nostalgic emotion. The nurse watched her expectantly; "Well?" she prompted. "Are you going to take it or not?"

"It'll make me numb," Katie sighed, rattling the pill cup in disgust. "I deserve to feel miserable for a little while at least." Amy frowned at her in concern, but after a brief contemplative silence, Katie added in a small voice; "Your shift is ending soon, right? Would you mind just talking for a while?"

"Not at all," Amy said gently, as she slid back into the chair opposite Katie and took her hand carefully. "Why don't we start with why you think you deserve misery?" she prompted skeptically. "Nobody deserves to feel that way in my book. What's going on with you?"

"I was thinking about my family," Katie started cryptically. "My sister came by today, you know? No matter how crazy I get she's always believed in me, and I love her to pieces." Amy smiled encouragingly as the brunette rambled on; "That's what I was babbling about earlier, I guess," she said sheepishly. "I was thinking about the day my nephew was born. He's eight years old now, and he is the love of my life, has been since his first breath, as dramatic as that sounds. I was there, you know." Her eyes darkened suddenly as her tone turned bitter; "My brother-in-law, on the other hand, is a serious asshole. He missed the kid's birth after being distant and resentful through my sister's whole pregnancy, then showed up at the hospital and proposed! God, can you believe that?"

"The plot thickens," Amy said in awe. "What did your sister say to that?"

"What do you think?" Katie muttered resentfully. "She was so desperate for him to care, not to mention hormonally emotional, instant yes," she grimaced. "He hates Bobby's existence, so I hate him!"

"Did any of that have something to do with why your sister visited today out of the blue?" Amy asked, intrigued by the story.

"It was a sneaky visit," Katie sighed. "Abusive cop husbands are almost a cliché at this point, huh? Kevin would have freaked out if he knew she came to me, our loathing for each other is very much mutual. He's a detective now no less; it's almost impossible for her to leave him without being found out."

"Wow, that sucks," Amy said sympathetically as her patient pressed her palms over her eyes in despair. "Katie, are you sure you don't want to take that lithium?" she pressed gently.

"No," the brunette hissed forcefully. "I broke the most important promise I've ever made today, I deserve to feel this regret."

"What promise?" her nurse asked. "You've mentioned that before, care to elaborate?"

"The day my nephew was born," Katie said softly. "My sister made me promise I'd protect him, no matter what. I promised I would and today when she needed me; I said I wasn't confident to leave this place. All she wanted was for me to come home," she said, her voice getting quieter with every word.

"But Katie, that was the responsible thing to say," Amy pointed out. "If you're not ready, you're not ready. I'm sure she understood that."

"She was desperate," Katie whimpered. "If that bloody husband of hers gets out of control I will blame myself. You didn't see the look on Bobby's face," she moaned, a thickness in her voice that told Amy she was dangerously close to tears.

"Bobby is your nephew?" she asked softly, and Katie nodded.

"That little boy is my reason to keep fighting the crazy," she confessed seriously. "If his father does anything to hurt him I could have prevented…God, I'll never forgive myself!"

In the shabby motel room where Melissa and Bobby had spent the night, the broken blinds meant waking up at first light. When the first rays of morning sunlight ripped her from the blissful oblivion of sleep, Melissa jerked upright on high alert. It had taken her so long to fall asleep; the absence of the little lump Bobby had formed under the blanket he had complained so much about was painfully obvious. Panic-stricken, she tossed aside her covers and leapt to her feet. Her wide hazel eyes were sweeping the room when Bobby emerged from the balcony attached to the room. "Mom, are you okay?"

"God, you scared me," she gasped, literally able to feel her racing heart returning to normal at the sight of him. "Where were you?"

"The balcony is the only other way out, besides the door," he pointed out. "It was stuffy, and you were asleep and…sorry," he trailed off sheepishly as she drew him into a tight hug. "I just needed to think, couldn't sleep very much."

"It's okay," she said softly. "What were you thinking about?"

"Aunt Katie," he confessed. "Is it bad that I miss her a lot, even though she couldn't help us?"

"Of course that's not bad," Melissa told him firmly. "I miss her too. You know she loves you more than anything, right? Just because she couldn't leave the clinic doesn't change that fact."

"I guess," he said reluctantly. "I just wish that she could understand that Dad is crazier than she is. He's like... dangerous crazy." He trailed his fingers gently across the faint blue bruising on her wrists. "I also wish he couldn't get away with this," he stressed pointedly. "I love you, Mom."

"That love is my shield," his mother told him. "As long as you're safe, nothing your Dad does will hurt me. Remember that, okay?" She pressed a kiss into his mop of dark hair as they stood in the middle of their dingy motel room. What awaited them back in Tree Hill was even less inviting, and neither of them was in any hurry to break their moment of solidarity.

**A / N This pure OC chapter is the real test of keeping people interested, thanks for the follows everyone! xx**


	12. Just Give Me A Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn wakes up in the hospital to a devastating loss.

Clay had no idea when the monotonous beeping of the machine monitoring Quinn's vitals lulled him into a fitful sleep. But the next thing he knew, a young Asian-looking night nurse was shaking him awake with an apologetic grimace. Through the haze of exhaustion, he was hit by the awful realization that the mechanical beeps had given way to a much more devastating sound: choked sobs. His head snapped up to see a second nurse standing on the other side of Quinn's bed with her hands pressed over her mouth in dismay. "I-I'm so sorry," she stammered and fled the room at a subtle nod from her supervisor. Clay stared at Quinn's trembling figure for a moment, sitting on the hospital bed with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head pressed against them.

"What the hell happened?" he snapped at the dark-haired nurse.

"My colleague is an intern," she said ruefully. "She assumed your wife was aware of the miscarriage already; it slipped out when she was checking her vitals. I'm very sorry, Mr. Evans."

"Unbelievable," he muttered. "How were Quinn's vitals? Can she go home soon?"

"She'll be fit to be discharged first thing in the morning," the nurse assured him. "There will be a short procedure to terminate the pregnancy properly. After that time will be her biggest healer."

"How bloody poetic of you," Clay growled, and the Asian woman gave him that same sympathetic expression the nursing profession seemed to demand as a default.

"I'll give you both some privacy," she said softly. "The final procedure can be discussed in the morning."

No sooner had the painfully blunt nurse left the room than Clay lurched towards the bed from the chair in which he had dozed off. Quinn's sobs had given way to desperate gasps, but she still wouldn't meet his eye. Carefully Clay placed his hand on her bowed head, and Quinn flinched as his fingers trailed soothingly through her hair. "I love you," he said simply. "I…I don't know what I can say to make this better. But I do know that I love you more than anything in the world. Okay?" Even though his wife refused to look up, Clay could hear her mumbling miserably to herself, and finally, he grabbed both her hands and just squeezed her long fingers gently. "Come on, Q, could you just look at me, please?" he begged.

At long last, Quinn slowly lifted her head, and Clay found that the only thing which could hurt him any more at this point was a clear view of her puffy, red-rimmed eyes. For a moment, she just stared at him, still breathing as if she had just run a marathon. Finally, she uttered a single word. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Clay asked softly. "Why do I love you? Because there's a long list and this doesn't change any of that, you know. You're still the girl who rescued the near lost cause I was from a very dark place. You're the girl who accepted my past and made it your future, no questions asked. I have more, but…"

Quinn pressed her finger to his lips and cut him off; "You're babbling," she informed him, and at any other time there would have been a teasing glint in her bright blue eyes, but not tonight. "That's very sweet, but that wasn't what I was asking," she said thickly. Clay watched the unshed tears brimming in his wife's eyes and waited for her deliberated her next words. "Tell me this is a bad dream," she choked pleadingly at last. "Why did it have to happen to us? That's what I mean by why! Just…why?"

"Quinn," he whispered when she finally doubled over in agony again, this time with her head pressed into his lap. "Baby, you have no idea how much I wish I could tell you this is a bad dream…but I can't. All I can tell you is that getting that call last night was one of the single most terrifying experiences I've had in years. So right now, I'm just grateful you're alive, understand? This whole thing is going to be painful; I know that. But I promise you; we'll get through it together."

"But it's not fair," Quinn squeaked, and even though her words were indistinct now, the devastated tone transported Clay back in time; to the day he had watched his first love falling apart just like this.

_May 2008 – Ten Years Earlier_

" _This is a disaster," Cassandra July snapped, her emerald-green eyes flashing in annoyance. The ballet instructor was standing outside the girls' bathroom backstage in the Duke University auditorium. Moments away from her graduation ballet recital, Sara Kay had locked herself in the restroom after a devastating revelation about her cancer-stricken older sister from her father. Cassandra glanced at Sara's best friend and fellow dancer Jessica Parker almost accusingly. "The girl is my star," she said irritably. "Find a way to get her on that stage, Parker. And I mean now!"  
_

_"Yes ma'am," Jessica muttered bitterly, but as soon as the uptight blonde stomped away to lecture someone else, the British girl's brow furrowed in concern. She knocked on the bathroom door hesitantly; "Sara? Miss July is gone. Can you please open this door now?" she begged. Considering how long she and the ballet teacher had already been standing there, Jessica was surprised to hear the lock click this time._

_The door cracked open just enough for Sara to pull her friend inside and quickly shut it again. Without a word, the hazel-eyed girl crossed over to the bathroom sink and stared at her reflection. The mascara she had already applied when her father arrived with the news that her sister was dying was nothing more than a series of smudged black streaks running down her cheeks. "I can't do this," she gasped, clinging to the edge of the sink as a sob bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her. "Izzie promised she'd be here…she promised, and now she's not only not here, but she's also going to die!"  
_

_"Isn't that all the more reason to shine tonight?" Jessica asked softly. "You told me your sister was a dancer in college, too, right? If you can do her proud, it'll be something…that's what I think anyway."  
_

_Sara pressed her hands over her eyes, and Jessica watched the tears rolling out from under her palms helplessly. "But she won't get to see it," the blonde said shakily. "And my Mom isn't here either because Izzie is in a freaking coma! How am I supposed to dance knowing that?"  
_

_"I don't know, honey," Jessica sighed and hugged her friend tightly. "But Miss July is throwing a fit out there. Jeff is a sweetheart; he'll understand how you feel. Don't you think it's worth cleaning up your face and giving it a shot out there? If it makes you feel any better, my parents couldn't come over from England either."  
_

_Not letting go of Jessica's hands, Sara nodded absently. Her dance partner was indeed a very nice guy and wouldn't allow any fumbles to look too bad. "It doesn't really, but you're right," she said softly. "Jessie, could you do me a favor while I try and fix this panda look?"  
_

_"Anything," her friend nodded quickly, and Sara forced a smile to show her appreciation.  
_

_"Find Clay," she said simply. "I could pretend it's so you have a chance to catch up with Lily or something, but I just…I need him here."  
_

_"Yeah," Jessica nodded understandingly and gave the sniffling blonde another squeeze. "I'm on it, girl, don't you worry," she promised and dashed away as Sara began to scrub her face clean._ _The British girl had barely darted across the stage where the dance would be performed and run through one of the narrow aisles separating the audience's many seats when Clay collided with her, looking frantic. "Thank God," she panted, sparing Lily a quick smile when she saw the redhead hot on her brother's heels. "Did you hear the news?"  
_

_"I ran into Mr. Kay outside," Clay told her quickly, gripping her urgently by the shoulders. "Jessie, where's Sara?"  
_

_"Girls' bathroom, backstage," Jessica said, nodding at the vast stage behind her. "I left her trying to fix her make-up; she's kind of losing it back there. Go!" Clay didn't need telling twice and was off before she could even blink. The ballerina glanced at Lily in disbelief; "Does your brother think he's Clark Kent, or what?" she marveled.  
_

_"Something like that," Lily giggled affectionately. "He's just completely in love, that's all."  
_

_"Normally, I'd say that Sara is a lucky girl, but this whole thing is so sad," Jessica sighed. "Enjoy the show, okay? I better get back there before my instructor throws another fit."_

_When Jessica got backstage again, it was to find Miss July taking out her pre-show frustration on Sara's dance partner, Jeff. "You don't think it's your job to make sure your dance partner is ready on time? Well, I have news for you, Mr. Williams: it most certainly is," she snapped. "If this class lets me down after all the work we put in this year, I will not be happy." Her eyes glinted with fury when Jessica came up beside the petrified boy and held onto his arm supportively. "Parker! I thought I told you to get Miss Kay out of that bathroom?"  
_

_"She will be," Jessica promised. "Back off Miss July, Jeff didn't even know about Sara's bad news. We'll get her out there because we're a team, but you seriously need to stop yelling."  
_

_"This is your ten-minute warning," the stressed-out blonde said irritably, before storming off with an outraged look on her face.  
_

_"That was so badass, Jess," Jeff marveled, grinning at her thankfully. "What's going on with Sara?"  
_

_"Her Dad just told her that her sister is dying," Jessica explained sadly. She pressed her head against the bathroom door, attempting to eavesdrop; "That's also why her boyfriend is braving the girls' bathroom by the way." She smirked at him over her shoulder; "Don't go getting ideas, okay?"  
_

_"Wouldn't dream of it," Jeff winked at her, raking his fingers through his hair absently. "My boyfriend might, though," he laughed, and Jessica waved her hand to shush him.  
_

_"Trying to listen in here," she hissed, and with a mischievous sparkle in his dark eyes, Sara's dance partner crouched beside her._

_On the other side of the locked bathroom door, Sara had managed to fix her mascara minutes before Clay barged in. Now she was standing wrapped tightly in his firm embrace, willing the tears not to start flowing again. "It's not fair," she moaned. "How am I supposed to pull this off without Izzie here?" she demanded, staring into his deep blue eyes for an answer.  
_

_"Life isn't fair," he said softly, stroking her silky hair gently. "But being miserable doesn't do anything to change that, you know." Sara's mouth fell open slightly in surprise at the unexpected wisdom, but Clay continued. "You know my Dad died in a plane crash the year before we met, right? I guess that little piece of life wisdom is something I learned then. So much has happened in the last few years alone I wish I could share with him, but being sad never changed a thing."  
_

_"Izzie was a ballerina too before she got sick," Sara sighed. "Jessie said I should try and make her proud tonight, even if…if she won't get to see it. That's all I want to do, you know?"  
_

_"That Jessica is a smart one," Clay smiled affectionately and tilted her head up, so their lips collided. "For whatever it's worth, I'm proud of you, baby," he said sincerely. "And I have an idea of what might help you get through this."  
_

_"You think so?" Sara raised her eyebrows at him skeptically, and Clay nodded.  
_

_"This," he said simply and held up two fingers. "I wish Izzie could be here to see you shine, babe, but I'm not going anywhere, I promise!"  
_

_"And I love you for that," she breathed, nuzzling close to him, clingy in her gratitude. "But how are two fingers supposed to help me?"  
_

_"Not two fingers, you goof," he laughed. "The count of two…tell this to the grandkids."  
_

_"Only if you're right there telling them with me," Sara shot back with her first genuine smile since the bad news. "So you're my official count-keeper now, huh?"  
_

_"I'll be whatever makes you smile like that," he promised and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You only have to do one thing: Keep an eye out for these fingers in the crowd, okay? You can do this; trust me!"  
_

_"That I do," she said. "I love you so much, my hero…thank you."_

Quinn's hand gripping his arm with vice-like force pulled Clay back to his present tragedy. Her eyes welling with tears were silently asking him by what stretch of the imagination this situation was fair. "Life isn't fair," he murmured. "Being miserable is never going to change that."

"What?" she asked hoarsely, staring at him with a puzzled expression.

"You said it's not fair," he reminded her. "Of course it's not…but life rarely is, you know. Do you remember what you said to me one day in the hospital after Katie shot us?"

"Which part?" Quinn asked with an involuntary shudder. "I said a lot of things back then, most of which I've tried to forget about, thank you very much."

"I know, babe," he said softly. "But just remember this one thing: You told me that we made it through that alive and that as long as we were together, we'd be okay. That still stands, don't you think?"

Quinn lowered her gaze, biting her lip so hard she almost drew blood; "I don't feel very alive right now," she confessed. "I wish I could stop feeling at the moment because it just hurts so much."

"It hurts because you have the biggest, most amazing heart in the world," he told her, kissing her cheek when another tear slid down it into her trembling palm. "Don't you dare go numb on me, Quinn James!"

"Evans," she reminded him in a subdued voice, leaning towards him so that her forehead grazed his shoulder. "Knowing that I have you is the only thing I have to be grateful for right now. What are we going to do, Clay?"

"A little more sleep might be a good place to start," he hinted and reached around her hunched figure to fluff the pillow behind her. "Lie down, beautiful."

"Don't let go," she begged, still in that broken, squeaky tone, and he kept a firm hold on her hand as her head hit the pillow.

"Never," he promised. Quinn shifted so that there was enough room for him to curl up behind her and stifled another sob when Clay's hand settled just above her heart. "I love you so much, Quinn," he repeated firmly, and she wondered if he could feel her heart, breaking a little bit more with every beat, as shattered as their dream of a life with this baby.

**A / N: Hopefully my college crossover headcanon makes sense to everyone, I had a blast writing my very first OC Jessica from the Potter days again. Enjoy the pain, everyone! xx**


	13. Gone Too Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blissfully unaware of Clay and Quinn's misfortune, Nathan and Haley make Christmas plans back in Tree Hill.

Back in Tree Hill, Haley awoke on Christmas Eve morning to raised voices coming from the living room below. Pulling on her dressing gown quickly, she made her way down the stairs to find Jamie and Lydia decorating their Christmas tree. The fake pine glittered with fairy lights and tinsel, but the honor of placing the paper Christmas angel Jamie had crafted a few years ago was currently causing a heated argument between her kids. "I wanna do it," Lydia whined, standing unsteadily on tiptoe and straining to grab the angel Jamie was holding out of her reach with a naughty smirk.

"Well, you can't," he said coolly. "I made it, so there." He wandered over to the tree and triumphantly balanced the angel on the highest branch, then turned to face his baby sister again; "Besides, you're too little to reach the tip," he laughed as her lips quivered pitifully.

Haley had been watching the exchange from just out of sight, half-way down the staircase. She cleared her throat, authoritatively. "James Lucas Scott, why are you upsetting your sister?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at his sheepish grin.

"Well, it's true," he said defensively. "Lydia's too big for me to pick up but too little to reach the tip, simple."

"Mean," Lydia grumbled and stuck her tongue out at her brother.

Haley opened her arms, and the three-year-old nuzzled in her mother's embrace. "Where's your father?" she asked, giving Lydia a comforting squeeze.

"Out for a run," said Jamie dismissively. "I would have let Lydia put the angel up if he was here. He can still pick her up."

"Weak," Lydia mumbled, frowning at Jamie. "Mean and weak, yup yup yup!"

"Oh God, she's quoting Ducky again," Jamie groaned, referring to Lydia's favorite character from the animated dinosaur adventure The Land Before Time. "I'm gonna go find Dad. Since Lydia seems to think I'm so mean and weak," here Jamie etched air quotes in the air with his fingers; "I'll just go for a run and leave the girly stuff to you, Mom."

"You do that. See you later, kid." Haley waved at his retreating figure with a laugh before returning her attention to the pouting three-year-old. "You're lucky, Lydia Bob," she informed her daughter. "When I was your age, I had to fight six brothers and sisters to get to place our Christmas angel. At least you only have one."

Lydia stared wide-eyed at her palms as she counted up to six on her fingers. "Ouch," she said simply. "Six is big."

"Very big," Haley nodded thoughtfully. "You wanna know a secret?" she said mysteriously, and Lydia shot her a toothy grin and clapped her hands enthusiastically.

"Secret, yay," she squealed happily.

Haley bent down and scooped the little girl into her arms, settling on the couch before she made the big revelation. Lydia giggled as her mother's warm breath tickled her ear. "Well, you're not supposed to have a favorite brother or sister," she began; "But the truth is, I always did."

"Wolfy is my favorite brother," Lydia said simply, sticking her thumb in her mouth after the confession. "He would let me make the angel fly," she said, pointing at the lopsided paper figure balancing at the tip of the Christmas tree across the room.

"I don't know about that, honey," Haley laughed. "Jamie is bigger than Logan, you know."

"But Jamie is mean," Lydia grimaced. "I want Wolfy to come home."

"He will," her mother promised. "You're a lot like me, Lydia Bob," she said, stroking her daughter's soft brown hair. "Your Aunt Quinn was always my favorite sister too."

Meanwhile, over at Raleigh's bustling hospital, the time for the dreaded ultrasound to confirm the miscarriage had arrived all too soon. When the technician warned Quinn that the gel would feel cold against her skin, she didn't even flinch. But the second the monitor flickered to life, her head turned away from the screen in a rapid, jerky motion. Her wide blue eyes stared at Clay's hands instead, wrapped tightly around hers but trembling visibly. "I love you," he reminded her softly, stroking his thumb across the cold palm of her hand. "No matter what happens, I love you."

"I can't look," she whimpered, her voice quiet and hoarse from hours spent sobbing at the crack of dawn. "That one picture can end a whole dream…I can't handle it!"

The nurse laid a sympathetic hand on Quinn's other shoulder, but she ignored it and kept staring at Clay. The pain in her eyes spoke volumes, silently begging him to change the outcome of this scan they both knew was coming. The very thought of what they were about to lose made the tears forming rapidly in her eyes spill over, uncontrollable in her devastation. "Quinn, stop," Clay begged, swiping at the fresh tear tracks streaking down her cheeks. "Just breathe, okay?" He leaned towards her and kissed her gently on the lips, then renewed his firm grip on her quivering fingers. "You don't have to be able to handle this," he told her. "Hell, you think I find it any easier to look at that thing? Not at all!" With an involuntary shudder, he pressed on. "There's only one way to look at that screen, understand? We'll do it together, I promise."

"On the count of three?" Quinn suggested faintly, and Clay closed his eyes for a moment and braced himself with a deep breath before giving a consenting nod. "One…two…three," she murmured under her breath and turned her head towards the monitor quickly before she could lose her nerve again. Where just a week ago their very first scan had shown a pulsing heartbeat, there was now painful silence, and Quinn stared at the technician, clinging to a futile sliver of hope until the worst was verbally confirmed. "Is it really…gone?" she asked quaveringly, and the other woman nodded sympathetically.

"I'm afraid so," she said. "I'm very sorry for your loss, ma'am."

With those words, Quinn abruptly found it as difficult to breathe as if someone had sucker punched her right in the stomach. "No," she moaned, wondering how much more it would take for the agonizing denial to stop hitting her in waves like this. One hand pressed against her stomach, but when she tried to pull the other one from Clay's grasp, his grip tightened abruptly. Swiping at her eyes firmly to prevent another onslaught of tears, Quinn sucked in a shaky breath and looked at him instead. "Oh no," she grimaced at the glassy look of his dark blue eyes. "Can I sit up?" she asked the technician hurriedly, barely allowing the woman to finish wiping the gel off her belly. Before the nurse had even granted her permission to move, Quinn straightened up and braced her hands on Clay's shoulders. "You looked on the count of two, didn't you?" she asked softly, and he nodded mutely.

"Old habits die hard," he sighed. "I know I said we'd handle it together, but seeing...nothing on that sonogram, I guess it just reminded me how I could have lost you last night. That's one thing I absolutely can't live with, sorry." With every word of the gut-wrenching confession, his head had sunk lower and lower, until it was pressed hard against her shoulder. Quinn closed her eyes as her fingers trailed through his hair, searching for the right words of reassurance when she felt so broken herself. "I love you too much, Q," he said, the words muffled as his lips pressed against her collarbone, and the shift in his tone from supportive to needy gave Quinn the perfect response.

"I'm still right here, honey," she promised, willing her voice to stay calm and steady. "I…um, I don't see how that's worth very much right now, but I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Not worth much?" he repeated in disbelief. He grabbed his wife's hand firmly and pressed his thumb against the little emerald-green stone on her engagement ring. "You do remember I already had to bury one of these, yes?" Quinn opened her mouth as if to say something else, but Clay shook his head and cut her off with a desperate kiss. "You are worth everything, Q," he said softly, grimacing when he pulled back and saw the tears coursing down her cheeks once more. "I don't care how cheesy that sounds. The thought of how often I've almost lost you in the last few years is absolutely terrifying. Seriously, cry as much as you need to, but never ever say you're not worth anything again, understand?"

"You're such a cheeseball," Quinn sighed, shaking her head at him. She bit her lip, clinging to his hand as if her life depended on it. "Do you think Logan knows already?" she asked softly.

"No idea," Clay shrugged, frowning apprehensively at the very thought of having to break this news to his son. "My Mom called last night and said she might tell him, but I don't know if she actually got around to it."

"If it helps, you have the all-clear to go home now," the nurse on Quinn's case said by way of greeting, entering the room just in time to catch the last part of the conversation. "From a physical perspective, nothing is stopping you from trying again as soon as your monthly cycle regulates. When you find yourself ready for the experience emotionally is a very individual thing, of course. Best of luck," she smiled sympathetically and shut off the ultrasound monitor, oblivious to the fact that the simple action made Quinn go rigid and almost stop breathing.

"It's gone," she said in an incredibly small voice, staring down at her lap when Clay's hands squeezed her shoulders firmly.

"Well, I'm not," he reminded her gently. "Just keep breathing, okay? I think going home is a great plan right now."

"Agreed," Quinn nodded miserably, tugging her shirt straight as she climbed down from the examination table and pressed herself into his arms. "I love you, you know that? I don't know how you're acting so brave…but I am so thankful that you are."

Clay shook his head slowly, breathing in the flowery scent of her favorite perfume as Quinn's head tilted wearily against his shoulder. "Trust me, I'm not that brave," he told her. "If you weren't here right now, conscious and speaking, I mean…I'd be a total wreck. And that is a fact."

"I don't understand how that's enough for you," she replied sadly. Her arms looped around Clay's neck, and he squeezed her tightly when Quinn's whole body weight sagged against him. "I feel so…incomplete," she murmured dejectedly.

"It'll get better, sweetheart," he promised, holding her head against his shoulder tenderly. "It hurts like hell. Of course, it does! But you're the one I really couldn't bear to lose. Our family will get through this, you'll see."

"Our family…I like the way that sounds," Quinn whispered, and from the strained smile that didn't reach her eyes, Clay knew the phrase had reminded her of the conversation before his spontaneous marriage proposal two years ago. "Just don't let go, okay? Please," she begged. "I know I've been saying that a lot, but I just…"

Clay cut off her quavering speech with a gentle kiss; "Who's babbling now?" he teased half-heartedly, but his arm slid firmly around her shoulders. "I've got you, I promise. Let's just go home, even that will feel better than hanging around here."

When Nathan arrived home from his jog around Tree Hill, the house was oddly silent. He smiled at the massive Christmas tree with pride of place in the living room before starting up the stairs. "Anybody home?" Haley darted out from Lydia's bedroom at the sound of his voice and pressed her finger to her lips. "There's my girl," he grinned. "Is Lydia down for a nap?"

"Just got her settled, so be quiet, or she'll be up like a shot," his wife warned. "You know what a Daddy's girl that one is."

"Sure do," he nodded proudly. He pulled Haley in for a hug deliberately, laughing when she grimaced at how sweaty he was. "She's just like her mother, can't resist me," he winked.

"Down boy, shower first," his wife demanded, shoving him away playfully. "What are you staring at?" she asked when his brow furrowed suddenly.

"What are you doing with Lydia's hairbrush?" he asked curiously, and Haley glanced down at the metallic golden brush she'd been absently twirling between her fingers since emerging from her daughter's room.

She traced the engraving on the back of the brush with her finger and murmured the words "My girl," softly before answering him. "It wasn't always Lydia's brush, you know. My Mom had this engraved for Quinn when she was born, and she gave it to me on top of dibs on Mom's name."

"That was nice of her," Nathan smiled. "What are you doing with it now?"

"It's Christmas," Haley said simply. "We don't know that she'll have a girl yet, but I think it's a good time to give it back, you know? Just in case she does."

"I like the way you think, Haley James," he said approvingly. "That's a great idea. Even my run was actually boring as hell without the company, Clay has a way of pushing me to the limit."

"That used to be his job as your agent, I guess old habits die hard," Haley reminded him. "Lydia's missing Logan loads too; it's kind of adorable. Ah, well, they'll all be back soon."

"Until then, how would you like to shower with me?" Nathan suggested mischievously. "Jamie ran into Chuck on the River Court; it's going to be just us for quite a while."

He tugged open the ribbon on the front of her dressing gown with a naughty smirk and pulled her into the bathroom. "Nathan Scott, you are a menace," she protested, kissing him hungrily. "Merry Christmas, indeed."

**A / N This story is becoming seriously depressing for my OTP heart; hope everyone enjoys! xx  
**


	14. Frozen In Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marie distracts Logan from worrying about Quinn with a story of Clay and Sara on a long-ago snow day.

Marie Evans had never been a heavy sleeper. When the door to the guest bedroom where she was staying at Sam and Lil's house swung open with a creaking noise, she sat up slowly and smiled at the hesitantly intruding pair of brown eyes peeking in on her. "Good morning, sunshine," she said with forced cheeriness. "What are you lurking out there for?"

"Didn't want to wake you up," Logan mumbled sheepishly, as he crawled over the mound of discarded blankets into her lap. "Sorry, I was just…looking at the angel on my window, and it was a big reminder that last night totally sucked."

"Oh, sweetheart," Marie sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "You have nothing to apologize for, is that clear? Where are your Grandma and Grandpa?" she asked.

"Making breakfast, I think," Logan said softly. "I'm not really hungry."

"Your parents still aren't back, I take it?" she pressed gently, and Logan shook his head miserably. "What's on your mind, kiddo?" At her persistent tone, Logan glanced over his shoulder and went back out into the hallway connecting the various bedrooms. There were some ominous thuds and Marie frowned at the doorway, but before she could get up to investigate, her grandson re-emerged, clutching a red leather-bound book protectively to his chest. "What's that you've got there? Did you drop something from the shelf?"

Logan shook his head as he laid the notebook between them on the bed and flipped it open to a random page. "Did you know about Mommy's journal?" he asked. "It was one of my birthday gifts last month. Dad said it was time I could answer some questions about her on my own. Apparently, she wrote everything down."

"Oh yes," his grandmother smiled. "That's a pretty awesome present, huh? Did you start reading it already?"

The eight-year-old nodded absently, still turning the pages of the book. Half-way through the journal, the boy stopped on a page with snowflakes sketched at every corner in dark blue ink. "I really like this one," he smiled, trailing his finger across the loopy handwriting at the top of the page.

Marie leaned towards the book, curiously. "Logan's first Christmas," she read the entry's title. "Good choice, buddy," she said approvingly. "You were only a month old then. It snowed on Christmas Eve that year; I was the one who kept an eye on you so your parents could have some fun, actually. Your Mommy absolutely loved Christmas, you know."

"Seems like it, this page is the fanciest," Logan grinned at her. "What was that day like?"

"That's a good story," his grandmother said simply, beckoning the little boy closer to her. "You slept through it all, but I pretty much had a front-row seat to a pretty great snow day."

_December 2010 – Eight Years Earlier_

_"Sara Kay Evans, did you not swear to me all through summer you'd be the first one out the door when it finally snowed?" twenty-four-year-old Clay Evans challenged his wife playfully, pulling on his thick snow gloves as the blonde kept staring longingly at their one-month-old son Logan._

_"I know, I know," she sighed; "I just can't get enough of my little sunshine over there. I mean, just look at our kid!"_

_"We made him," Clay smirked proudly, wrapping his arms around her and following Sara's loving gaze to where his mother stood with the infant fast asleep in her arms. "I think my Mom can handle him, angel, lighten up already."_

_"I second that one," Marie Evans chipped in, cradling her grandson affectionately. "I did raise that knucklehead, you know."_

_"Mom," Clay groaned as Sara giggled at his expense. "Why do you choose to hurt me like this?"_

_"I like knuckleheads," Sara whispered seductively in his ear and backed slowly towards the front door. "She's right; it's not even like we'll be very far. The yard has so much snow right now that Logan can even watch the fun if he does wake up."_

_"Exactly," Clay said pointedly. "Next year, he'll be old enough to come and play in the snow with us, have patience." He was too busy gazing lovingly at the baby to notice that Sara's infectious giggles had faded suspiciously away in the distance. Marie's bright blue eyes twinkled knowingly, as she carried Logan over to the window for a better view of the antics. "Ah!" Clay gasped as a freezing clump of snow hit him in the back. "Oh, you'll pay for that one, Sara Kay," he warned the blonde peeking out from behind a big tree at the other end of the lawn._

_"Evans," she called back teasingly. "Hit me with your best shot, babe."_

_Clay smiled at Logan, clinging to the front of Marie's shirt in his sleep, before taking the bait. "Mommy's asking for it now, isn't she Wolverine?"_

_"Clay, that's cheating," Sara whined from across the snow-covered lawn. "You're the one who said to ease off the kid, traitor!"_

_"Just making sure he's on my team," Clay winked as he finally stepped outside and bent down to scoop up a handful of snow. "It's payback time angel, watch your back."_

_"Bring it on," Sara laughed, shaking snow from the sturdy tree branch above her head into her hand as ammunition. She stepped out from behind the tree trunk carefully and launched her snowball at the exact moment that Clay sent his flying towards her. "Well, that was artistic," she mused when the two clumps of snow collided in mid-air and disintegrated, neither having met their original targets._

_"Nice aim," Clay told her mock-teasingly. "Even your snowball is in love with mine, give in to temptation and save us all the trouble of getting really cold."_

_"Where's the fun in that?" Sara shot back and danced out from behind her tree as he watched in amusement. "Warming up is the best part," she said, twirling gracefully towards him with her tongue sticking out to catch the occasional snowflake. "Don't you think?"_

_"Hell yeah," Clay moaned as her arms looped around his neck._

_Suddenly the opening strains of Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground drifted out to them from the open window. "Your Mom is psychic," Sara said gleefully. "I love this song."_

_"It could also be the fact that very few other records ever see the light of day in this house," Clay pointed out, returning his mother's wave and staring at Logan's tiny figure in her arms for a moment._

_"Whatever," Sara said dismissively. "Dance with me, you goof!"_

_"Now?" he asked._

_"No, next year," she said sarcastically. "Yes, now, dummy." She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips; "Unless you're not up to the challenge of keeping me warm, that is."_

_"Is that seriously a challenge, angel?" he teased. "Careful what you wish for, I might never let you go."_

_"That's what I'm hoping," Sara whispered, pressing her head against the padding of his jacket as they began to sway in unison. "I love you, you know?"_

_"I kind of love you too," he replied. "This is forever, I promise."_

_"It better be," she said, grinning when he kept a firm hold on one of her hands so she could spin away from him and land safely back in his arms. "I'll make a dancer of you yet, Clay Evans."_

_"I know you have many talents, angel, but I'm pretty sure world-class dancing is not in my future, I'm sorry to say," he laughed._

_"I'll show you talents," Sara smirked, backing away from him as she spoke. Stretching her arms out to her sides, the blonde flopped into the deep layer of snow coating the lawn. "This angel loves angels," she said, spreading her arms and legs wide to form a classic snow angel. "It'll give you some work to do later, Mr. Warm Up," she giggled breathlessly up at him._

_"Why later?" Clay demanded with a teasing glint in his dark blue eyes. "You don't get to be all pink-cheeked cuteness and expect me to ignore it, angel. Good try."_

_Sara's eyes widened as he knelt at her feet and leaned forward, pinning her arms to the ground so he could reach her lips uninterrupted. "Oh no," the blonde squealed. "God, that's freezing…I hate you!"_

_"Getting snow down the back of your jacket?" he laughed mischievously. "I was just giving Mr. Warm Up a real job to do, you know," he said as Sara's teeth began to chatter uncontrollably._

_"Shut up and kiss me, you knucklehead," Sara moaned insistently, sitting up when he finally released her. "That's what you get for ruining my perfect snow angel, idiot."_

_"Hmm," Clay murmured, too busy sucking on her rosy lips to speak for a moment. "That's where I have an advantage," he said at last. "Nothing can stop my angel from being perfect every minute of every day."_

_"Okay, that's a good line," Sara said reluctantly, as Clay stood up and pulled her to her feet. "Very smooth, I knew there was a reason I love you."_

_"That can't be the only reason," he pouted, wrapping his arms tightly around her._

_"Well, no," Sara admitted, leaning back against his chest with a contented sigh. "The biggest reason is over there," she said, nodding at the window where Marie was still holding Logan and watching them fondly. "And you're kind of a super-agent," she winked. "We did alright, huh?"_

_"I'd say we did great," Clay corrected. "Come on, let's go freeze the kid and see how tough he really is."_

_"No freezing my baby," Sara protested, punching his arm playfully. "You're officially Mr. Warm Up now, bring on the cuddles!"_

_"Our baby," Clay smiled, pressing her close to him as they headed back inside. "Your wish is my command. Lead the way, angel."_

"Nana, did you hear that?" Logan interrupted the story suddenly, twisting around in her arms to stare out into the hallway. "I think Mom and Dad might be back." He slid off the bed and padded quickly down the stairs with his grandmother following anxiously.

Lil was standing near the kitchen door, beyond which they could still hear frying pans sizzling. But the sympathy in her eyes barely registered compared to the sight of Clay, standing in the middle of the hallway awkwardly holding Quinn bridal style in his arms. Her head was pressed against his shoulder, and her half-closed eyes made the tear tracks on her cheeks even more glaring. "Honey, you can put her down now," Lil said gently, guiding him over to the couch.

She shifted the cushions around quickly to prop up Quinn's head comfortably, and Clay reluctantly laid her down and sat down with her feet in his lap. "I can put her down, but I won't let go," he said softly. "I can't do that again!"

"No one's asking you to," Marie told him gently, and he looked at her with devastation written all over his face, the hand that Quinn reached for trembling desperately in her grasp. "Nobody's letting go, okay? Not this time."

"I thought you said I was too long to carry," Quinn joked weakly. "What do you call that hero action back there?"

"I call that not letting go," he said simply, squeezing her fingers tightly. "There are exceptions to every rule."

"Dad, what happened?" asked Logan's small voice suddenly, and Marie realized guiltily that he had been lurking behind her the whole time Quinn was getting settled. Obviously, he was more nervous than he had let on after the initial burst of enthusiasm that his parents were finally home.

"You didn't tell him?" Clay asked his mother, sounding so exhausted that she wished she had just interrupted Logan's sleep the previous night.

"He was asleep by the time you called last night," she said apologetically. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Don't worry about it," Clay said absently, beckoning the eight-year-old over to the couch. "Get over here, kid." Logan climbed awkwardly onto the armrest of the sofa and braced his hand on his father's shoulder for balance. "Do you mind if we talk about this later?"

Logan shook his head slowly; "I'm just happy you're home," he said softly. "Last night was super sad, even Nana cried."

"She did, huh?" Clay murmured, shooting his mother another sad smile. "How are you feeling about all this, bud?"

"Jamie says Aunt Haley used to tell him that sometimes people need to cry out all their tears to make room for a heart full of smiles, or something like that," Logan quoted. "I think hugs work fine."

"I think you're right," Clay told him. "But we won't tell Aunt Haley that she's a cheeseball, okay? We can just do lots of hugs."

"Like now?" the little boy suggested, frowning slightly when Quinn's shaking hands pressed over her eyes. "I wish hugs worked for Mom."

"Now is perfect," Clay nodded, and Logan looped his arms around his father's neck like some kind of clingy monkey, staring over Clay's shoulder at Quinn. "I love you, Wolverine."

"Love you too," the eight-year-old sighed, still watching Quinn sadly. He slid down from the armrest of the couch and approached her head hesitantly. "Don't cry, Mom," he begged. "It's gonna be okay."

Quinn stared blearily at the concerned boy for a moment, and then shifted her hands so that they were pressed hard against her stomach once more. "No, it won't be okay," she gasped. "It won't be okay because I'm not your Mom, and now I won't get to be one."

"Quinn," Clay hissed in horror, as Logan backed towards his grandmothers with quivering lips. Lil pressed the shocked little boy close to her, while Marie approached the couch and squeezed Clay's shoulder. "Take that back, please," he pleaded with his wife. Quinn's words might just as well have been a knife stabbing him straight through the heart, his mother thought.

"I can't," Quinn said pitifully, her eyes swimming with tears when she looked up at him again. "I'm really sorry, honey, but this is your home, not mine. I need Haley," she finished simply. Without another word, she wriggled upright and bolted up the stairs, where they soon heard the click of a door being locked.

Marie dropped into the space Quinn had so hurriedly vacated and allowed Clay's head to press against her shoulder. "How am I supposed to fix this?" he choked. "It's like you used to say when Dad died: Life isn't fair, being miserable is never going to change that."

"Maybe so," Marie consented sympathetically, patting the small space between them as an invitation for Logan to squeeze onto the couch with them. "But sometimes everyone is allowed to be miserable, just try and remember it really does get better in time."

Logan crawled into Clay's lap, his eyes still wide in sadness. "We were reading Mommy's journal before you got home," he told his father. "Can we go say goodbye before going back home?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," Clay said fervently. "You know your Mom didn't mean what she said earlier, right?"

"She sounded pretty convincing to me," Logan replied sadly. "You won't leave me again, right? Pinky swear?"

He held up his tiny pinky finger, and Clay linked it with his without a moment's hesitation. "Never ever," he promised. "I'm not making that mistake again. It's gonna be sad for a while, but you make everything better, squirt. I should have realized that when you were little and I'll never stop being sorry for that, okay?"

"I forgive you," Logan smiled. "Will it work if I tell you it's gonna be okay? Mom didn't like it so much."

"You know what, kiddo? It just might," Clay said softly. "You and time are going to make everything just fine."

**A / N Clara are so naturally bittersweet and tragic it was strange as a hardcore multi-shipper for me to give them the fluff and Clinn the angst. But I hope everyone enjoys xx**


	15. Just A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay has a nightmare warping the memory of Sara's funeral into Quinn's death. Kevin tries to call Melissa on the road, striking fear into his wife and son.

_The only thing Clay remembered about the long walk between the church pews was the physical ache in his chest. And Sara's last words playing on a loop in his head with every painstaking step towards the coffin. A coffin...in the very same church where three years ago she had promised him an eternity together. The pews were deserted now, the wake over and done. Family and friends had all gathered at Sara's childhood home, to try and find the words to help her parents come to terms with the loss of another child. The candles on the walls had nearly burned out, but the darkness save for dim sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows was a perfect reflection of Clay's mood. His thoughts were as jumbled as his emotions were fragile. As he walked, they flitted from baby Logan to the piercing memory of his wife's teasing smile seconds before she collapsed, all too rapidly to comprehend._

_The seemingly eternal walk to reach the coffin came to an end at some point in his unconscious movements. Clay recalled vividly how the wooden rim of Sara's final resting place had felt beneath the desperate grip of his fingers. He clung to it as if grasping the edge of the casket would bring its occupant back to life with the glowing smile he loved more than anything in the world. As if her lids would fly open to reveal the warm hazel eyes their son had inherited just recently, in the subtle shift from the blue-gray shade of newborns. Her delicate hands were in a folded position across her chest. In that position, the first thing anyone viewing the body would notice was how both her engagement and wedding rings glinted on her stiff, lifeless fingers. The sight taunted him with what could have and should have been their future._

_Out of nowhere, a wave of bitter injustice almost choked the widower, pushing the past four days' worth of denial so far away that only all-consuming pain remained. He laid his hand on top of hers, suppressing the urge to flinch away when he felt how ice-cold her pale skin was. At some point, his eyes had squeezed shut, the corpse's stillness too much to bear. Fumbling through a haze of tears, he clumsily slid his own wedding band off his finger and onto her motionless one. Clay was aware that he was nearing the point of hyperventilation only because his gasps echoed off the stone walls of the church. When all attempts to brace himself for the painfully icy contact failed, Clay calmed his breathing by counting to two, over and over in a soothingly rhythmic fashion. "This is yours now, angel...and it always will be," he promised out loud, even though he was alone, and she couldn't hear him anymore. "I can't believe in love without you...I'm done!"_

_He found he no longer had the energy to hold back the hot tears of outrage and agony; the longer he knelt, staring at his wife's body. It was through this veil of tears that he glanced at the corpse's head, where Sara's pale face should have been, surrounded by the halo of blonde curls that had always taken his breath away. His shocked yell shouldn't have been possible with how hard it had recently been even to breathe, but the lifeless face he saw in the coffin wasn't Sara's..._

"No!" Clay yelped, jerking upright so fast that he hit his head on the low shelf fastened to the wall just above the couch. Black spots were still dancing before his eyes when Lil came into focus at his side, frowning in concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked in a low voice, watching him press one hand to the back of his head.

Clay stared down at his left hand and squeezed the two-year-old wedding band tightly as if to make sure it was still there. In response to his former mother-in-law's question, he mutely shook his head. "Bad dream," he said shakily. "Where's Quinn?"

"Kitchen," Lil told him with a sympathetic smile. "I think she's having a moral crisis over a cup of coffee like that's the final step to making all this very real."

Even though his head was still throbbing painfully, Clay staggered down the hall to the kitchen, needing to see Quinn for himself. She was sitting at the kitchen table, with both hands over her eyes and wavy blonde hair obscuring her tear-streaked face. Sam was fiddling with the hissing coffee machine nearby and kept shooting her worried glances. But even in an utterly distressed state, the sight of his wife eased the knot of panic which the nightmare had lodged in Clay's chest.

"Hey gorgeous," he said softly, flashing Sam a quick smile to prevent more hovering concern. "What's this I hear about a moral dilemma involving coffee? You've been an addict for as long as I've known you, funny girl." Quinn faced him with a painfully blank stare, completely ignoring the lightly teasing words. She stood up and paced over to where he was leaning in the kitchen doorway, finally tilting her head wearily against his chest. "What's going on in that pretty head, baby?"

"Clay...I-I'm so so sorry," she stammered, spluttering the words through a fresh round of tears. "I don't know why I snapped like that. I love Logan, you know I do."

"Of course you do," he sighed, trailing one hand gently through her tangled hair. "I know that, and you know it...but you also know that parentage is the one thing Logan is the most sensitive about. Whether you meant the words or not, they're out there now."

"Where is he now?" Quinn asked tearfully. "I don't know how I'm going to fix this, but there has to be something I can do to make it up to him."

"Don't worry," Sam interrupted suddenly, turning around with a coffee cup in each hand, just in time to catch Clay's look of panic. "Your mother figured you could use as much sleep as possible after last night, so she took him down to the cemetery after you crashed on the couch. Did the rest help?"

"Debatable," Clay muttered, and Quinn shot him a curious look, the tears clinging to her long lashes almost a permanent fixture at this point. "I...um, I had a nightmare of Sara's funeral," he said reluctantly. "Except when I got to the coffin, she wasn't the one in it."

"What are you talking about?" Quinn pressed, and despite how upset she was, her grip on his hand grew firm and comforting.

"It was you," Clay gasped, and just saying the words out loud seemed to knock the wind out of him again, the very idea of losing her utterly unbearable. "I don't know why or how the memory of the funeral got warped like that. But it's not the first time I've had a nightmare of losing you," he confessed. "I can't live without you, okay? I can't!"

The look in Quinn's pale blue eyes was as shocked at that moment as the day he had told her about Logan's existence two years ago. "I don't like your imagination, Clay Evans," she said fervently, shaking her head slowly. His anguished gaze bored a hole in the floor until she gently took his head in both hands. "Hey, look at me," she said softly. "You're not gonna lose me, I promise. Till kingdom come, remember?"

"Right," he nodded. "I love you, Quinn." She pressed her palm flat against his in response, and something about the wedding bands they were both wearing rubbing up against each other made him feel better than any words could have.

"I love you too," she whispered back. "That's why...I think you should go after your Mom and Logan. This dream has to have meant something, maybe visiting Sara will help."

"Are you sure?" he asked skeptically, and she simply nodded.

"Logan needs you," she said, lowering her gaze guiltily. "And you need her. Just...tell him again, that I'm sorry, okay? Please." Quinn buried her face in the folds of his shirt without another word and held on so tight that he knew just how hard it was for her to let him put Logan first right now.

Meanwhile, at a police station in Charlotte that put the Tree Hill headquarters to shame, Kevin Riley was frowning at the surveillance footage from a local convenience store. Robbery and unfortunate murder victims, this was the kind of thing that spiced up his job from time to time. But on this Christmas Eve, when most cops at the station were grumbling about working through the holidays, Kevin had something else on his mind.

"Any luck tracking the license plate of that getaway truck, Riley?" the local head detective asked, munching on a doughnut as he approached Kevin's temporary desk. "The surveillance video of the shooting is pretty grainy, and it still looks nasty, eh?"

"Murder usually is," Kevin muttered distractedly, turning his cell phone over and over in his hand. It had remained annoyingly silent since he had taken this case. "And no, whoever pulled this stunt got out of there real quick, the search is a work in progress."

Kevin glared at the phone in his hand as the surveillance tape showed a masked thug shooting a young woman in the back of the head. "Expecting a call?" asked his local boss, watching the blurry video with morbid interest.

"My wife," said Kevin coolly, as their victim collapsed against the checkout counter on the tape, dead in an instant. "She knows how I hate missing our talks."

Nearly half-way back to Tree Hill from the clinic in Atlanta, the silence between Melissa and Bobby was tenser than ever. She gripped the steering wheel with exhausting force, just to avoid meeting Bobby's miserable gaze. "I'm sorry, kiddo," she said softly at long last. "You know going home is our only option now."

"I know," he sighed, staring down at her cell phone in his lap instead of looking at her. "That doesn't mean I like it. I wish Aunt Katie had just agreed to come home."

"Are you scared?" Melissa asked. "I told you, honey, I'm not going to let your Dad hurt you."

She could practically feel her son's piercing stare on her before he spoke, even without looking at him. "It's not me I'm worried about," he said dully, and Melissa thought he might as well have crushed her heart in his fist for all the defeat in his tone. "I already know he hates me...you're the one who keeps forgetting that."

Melissa had to swallow hard to be able to get any words out around the massive lump in her throat. "Bobby Ryan, you listen to me very carefully, alright? You are the absolute best thing that has ever happened to me. It's just unfortunate that your father gets half the credit for your existence." She squeezed his shoulder firmly; "The only thing I'm thankful to him for is you, understand? I wouldn't give that up for anything in the world, including maybe not being stuck with him right now. We will be okay, I promise you."

"So you keep saying," Bobby said in a low voice, and his mother could tell that leaving Atlanta without Katie had crushed his spirit. "I just wish I could believe it." Before Melissa could say another word, the cell phone in Bobby's lap rang out shrilly and made her jump."We are so busted," he said dismally, after a glance at the caller ID. "It's Dad."

"Ignore it!" Melissa's voice had remained reasonably steady at the command, she thought. But when the eight-year-old glanced at her, his mother's face was white as a sheet, and her hands trembled on the steering wheel.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Bobby asked, and how grown up and protective he sounded just made her yearn for his lost innocence again. "It's just gonna make him super mad."

"That's his problem," she said with a lot more confidence than she truly felt. "Don't answer that call. Just leave it, please."

"If you say so," Bobby shrugged, but when he had tucked the phone into the car's glove compartment in front of him, he reached over and covered her tense hands on the steering wheel with his small ones. "You're scared," he noted softly.

"No, I'm not," Melissa lied too quickly, staring hard at the long road ahead. "I told you we'd be fine, didn't I?"

"Sure," the eight-year-old consented. "But I don't believe it, remember?"

"Bobby...," she started, sounding worn out.

"Mom," he interrupted firmly. "We'll be fine...even without Aunt Katie." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small round object. "I found this under the couch when I got back from school the day Dad wrecked our Christmas tree," he said quietly. When there was a lull in the highway traffic, Melissa glanced at him and felt her breath catch painfully in her throat again. Nestled in Bobby's fist was the head of the Christmas angel Katie had given him all those years ago, the only symbolic remnant of their last shattered hope.

**A / N I'm not sure how I feel about the OC part of this chapter, but the Clinn and Clara was super emotional but also fun to do. Enjoy! xx**


	16. Leave Me If You Need To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay joins Logan and his mother at the cemetery, where being near Sara allows the full weight of his loss to hit him.

"Maybe I shouldn't go," Clay mused, buttoning up his jacket extra slowly as if hoping someone would agree with the suggestion. His gaze was locked pointedly on Quinn, sitting on the couch again with her hands folded. She had been in silence too deep to be merely contemplative for a worryingly long time.

"You need to do this, honey," Lil told him, her tone gentle but firm. "Is leaving worrying you because of what happened the last time you left Quinn here? We'll keep an eye on her, that's a promise."

"Possibly," Clay shrugged miserably. "I know Logan will be a mess right now, and I have to fix it...but she's so quiet." He paced over to the couch and sat down beside Quinn for a moment. "Come here, you," he said softly, and her head sagged heavily against his shoulder. "I can stay, you know?"'

"No, you can't," she sighed. "This is all my fault, and I need you to help me to fix it, okay? Please just bring Logan back so we can go home," she begged. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and squeezed so hard that he could barely breathe for a moment. "The last thing I want to do right now is let you go, but that's my punishment for snapping at Logan."

"Baby, you have got to stop punishing yourself," he said firmly. "You were sleep-deprived and heart-broken, Logan will understand."

"So were you," Quinn pointed out in a quavering voice. "I didn't see you get mad at him for no reason." She pressed a kiss to his cheek then pulled her hand out of his grasp. "Bring him home, please. I'll be fine, I promise." Her smile was as forced as it had been on Halloween four years ago when the terror of Katie Ryan's return had ruined Clay's favorite holiday with the sight of his girlfriend in tears.

"Alright," he said reluctantly, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as he stood up. "See you soon, babe...I'm going to bring our son home," he promised, putting extra emphasis on the pronoun. "Stay safe this time, would you?"

Quinn nodded silently, her eyes sparkling with more unshed tears. She waited until he was out the door to add in a choked whisper: "I have nothing left to lose." Out of sight around the corner, Sam and Lil exchanged a determined look. Despite their promises to take care of her, the time had come for an intervention to this pity party.

At Raleigh's local cemetery, Logan was brushing snow off the top of Sara's headstone, each stroke of his little, gloved hand slow and tender. Standing just behind him, Marie resisted the urge to squeeze her grandson tightly and never let go. Her instincts told her it would take more than doting grandparents to fix the damage Quinn's outburst had done. The cemetery was still and deserted on this Christmas Eve, not far from the church where the local choir would be belting out prayers and carols the next day. But for now, they were alone with an icy wind whistling all around them and snow crunching underfoot whenever she shifted her weight to try and keep warm. "I miss her," Logan said at long last in a small voice, stepping back to admire the clean headstone when he had finished. "Nana, why is Mom mad at me? I don't get it. Suddenly it's like she hates me."

"That's not true," Marie interrupted firmly, but her grandson's warm brown eyes glimmered with a level of hurt she had never seen before. "Listen, squirt, when your Mom landed up in the hospital last night; it was because the baby was hurt. They're so delicate when they're growing, so your Mom is okay, but the baby died, understand? So your Mom's not mad at you, she's just...very sad. And she doesn't hate you, that's impossible."

Logan's head was tilted to one side as he contemplated her words. "Oh," he breathed, and the single syllable made the air he exhaled a puff of warm fog. Marie could practically see the cogs turning in his mind as her grandson pieced together the implications of her words. "So there's no more baby?" he asked finally.

"That's right," Marie sighed. "Not for now anyway, maybe someday…you never know."

"That explains a lot," the eight-year-old mused under his breath. "I just…I guess I don't wanna lose Mom, too, you know?" He glanced at the headstone in thoughtful silence for a moment. "I asked Mommy to keep her safe at the hospital last night," he confessed. "Grandma says she can always hear me, so it felt right."

Marie was staring at her grandson with tears welling in her eyes at how precious he was when suddenly Clay's voice sounded from somewhere behind her. "Of course she can, bud," he said simply, in a low and subdued voice that was almost drowned out by the snow crunching on the gravel path as he paced towards his mother and son.

"Dad, you came!" Logan squealed and launched at his father immediately.

"I promised, didn't I?" Clay said softly and hugged Logan close for a moment before lifting him into his arms. "Jeez, kid, you're getting heavy," he huffed teasingly, staggering two steps closer to the headstone and then letting his son go.

"Lame," Logan smirked at him; "If Mom is too long to carry and I'm too heavy, maybe you're just weak?"

"Watch it, Wolverine," Clay protested, but the effort behind his smile when he ruffled the little boy's hair was visible.

Sensing the sadness bubbling close to the surface, Logan squeezed his father's fingers. "Nana told me about the baby," he said carefully. "Is Mom still upset?"

"Mm-hmm," Clay nodded jerkily. "But it's just like I told you; she honestly didn't mean to take it out on you. She sent me out here with the message that's she's sorry and that she wants you to come home soon."

"Really?" Logan pressed in awe, but his father didn't answer. The boy glanced from his grandmother's expression of relief to the anguish in Clay's dark blue eyes and fell silent for a moment. "Never mind, say hi to Mommy first," he urged and tugged Clay closer to the headstone. "She always listens, you know."

"Yeah, she does," Clay agreed absently, giving Marie a one-armed hug as he stared at the headstone. "How come you told him about the baby now?" he asked his mother wearily.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed with a wavering smile. "The kid is persistent and adorable; it's a very persuasive combination."

"Persistent and adorable, indeed," Clay echoed, as Logan nuzzled affectionately into his side. "Sounds familiar, doesn't it, angel?"

"Do you call Mommy angel because she's in heaven?" Logan piped up curiously. "I think she'll look after the baby up there. Because she didn't get very long with me, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Clay nodded again, even the short answer muffled as he bit down hard on his quivering lips. "That would make your Grandpa Ryan and Aunt Izzie angels, too," he said at last. "Your Mommy was my angel, even when she was alive. She was unique. You know why?" With a faint smile at the wreath of red and white roses that Clay had positioned at the base of the headstone, Logan shook his head and shot his father a questioning glance. "Her favorite song," Clay said softly, allowing the words to hang in the freezing air between them: "was called Angel Flying Too Close To The Ground, by an old guy named Willie Nelson. It was a very depressing song, but it happened to be the soundtrack of a lot of big moments for us."

_July 2011 – Seven Years Earlier_

_Clay was hunched over a pile of letters from wannabe professional athletes when the sound of a cheering audience rippled from the record player behind him and broke his concentration. Soft footsteps padded down the hallway connecting the living room to the bedrooms, and Clay shoved the papers aside when his wife came into view. In a short cream sundress and with one hand massaging the back of her neck, she was a vision of loveliness even before she shot him a bright smile. "I had a feeling this song would lure you out of the nursery the way nothing else can," he smirked at her, dropping his pen in relief.  
_

_"I love this song," Sara said simply, stopping at the edge of the island counter to place the baby monitor in her hand behind the fruit bowl.  
_

_"I love you," he shot back with a grin. "You look so beautiful."  
_

_"Well, thank you, handsome," she said, smiling at him from across the room. The glint in her eyes gave him a pretty good idea of what was coming. "You're not so bad yourself," she teased. "Dance with me."  
_

_Despite the loving lilt of her voice, it was a demand, and as the song continued in the background, the couple swept closer together. When her arms clasped around his neck, their faces so close together that every breath they each took warmed the air between them, Clay asked: "So you're finally letting Logan get to sleep on his own, huh? You spoil him, angel."  
_

_"I can't help it, he's as irresistibly cute as his Dad," she winked at him and then tilted her head against his shoulder. "You know the first time I knew this would be our song?"  
_

_"When was that?" Clay asked, but the blissful feeling of love swelling in his heart would have been fueled enough by the way her tiny frame felt in his embrace, even if she hadn't answered.  
_

_"After the graduation ceremony in my dorm room at Duke," Sara said softly. "Remember?"  
_

_"Of course I do," he replied, stroking her hair tenderly. "I remember how Jessica offered to pack up your stuff because you were too upset to get off my lap."_

" _She said it was easy enough because I was a neat freak," Sara laughed. "Yeah, that was a very rough day. At the hospital, when Izzie was dying was the first time you met my Mom, wasn't it?"  
_

_"Unfortunately, yeah," Clay nodded and squeezed her a little tighter. "Sometimes, I think your parents agreed to us getting married so soon because you begged me to stay that day."  
_

_"Quite possible," she admitted. "You make me feel so safe. This song…it's kind of the soundtrack of all those times I was most in love with you."  
_

_"Hey, why the past tense?" he pouted, and the expression made Sara giggle as she placed her hands on the back of his head and captured his lips in a firm kiss. "I…love…you," he gasped, every time she pulled back for air. "My angel."  
_

_"I love you too, you pouty knucklehead," Sara smiled teasingly up at him. "Present tense. Hey, you know what I want?"  
_

_"What?" he moaned half-heartedly, sucking urgently on her soft lips. "Too much talking, not enough kissing."  
_

_"Behave yourself," Sara said, wiggling her finger mock-scoldingly in his face. "I really want grape Koolaid, and you desperately want to get back to work, am I right?"  
_

_"Ugh…no," Clay protested, rolling his dark blue eyes towards the ceiling when she wandered over to the refrigerator and tugged it open to get the pitcher of her favorite drink. He sat down at the kitchen table again and picked up his pen with a grimace, giving it a futile shake to get the ink flowing. "You know what I hate?" Sara was eyeing him with a knowing smile now as she poured herself the drink. "I hate these pens," Clay grumbled. "There's either way too much fluid or not enough but never the right amount. And they cost like a fortune."_

_A soft clinking noise interrupted his rant, and Clay glanced up from his work to see that Sara had placed her full glass of Koolaid on the counter for some reason. Her face was turned towards him now, no hint of the teasing smile left. Her dark brown eyes were eerily blank for that fleeting second, a second that would later seem like an eternity, but Clay smiled affectionately at her. "What are you looking at, you goof?" he asked. And then he felt his heart skip a beat as her whole body convulsed and collapsed out of sight behind the counter with a haunting thud._

Clay was ripped from the devastatingly intense memory by the sensation of his kneecaps becoming very cold and wet. Only then did he realize that the weight of his loss had forced him to his knees, despite the snow. He could feel his mother's hand trailing comfortingly across his shoulders, but her voice urging Logan to go and wait in the car felt as if it was coming from a great distance. When his son's crunching footsteps had faded away, drowned out by the blistering wind, Clay finally allowed Marie to pull him to his feet. "You didn't have to think about that particular day right now," she pointed out. "Isn't the present sad enough?"

"Quinn thought this would help," he said miserably. "Visiting Sara, I mean. Do you…um, do you think she's looking after our baby up there?"

"It helps to believe that, doesn't it?" his mother sighed. "Remember when those Russian thugs kidnapped Nathan? Sara didn't have anything to do with his safe return, but you still asked her to be his guardian angel. It's the same thing Logan did last night, praying that Quinn would be alright."

"Except that Quinn isn't really alright, far from it," Clay said bitterly. "She wants to go home now…I'm not ready to deal with this by myself." His face felt flushed, heated despite the icy wind, thanks to the exhausted tears finally breaking through the brave mask he had put up for Quinn.

"She needs her sister right now, it's understandable," Marie said gently, watching with a helpless expression as he took gasping breaths in the struggle to regain his composure. "I'm always a simple phone call away, sweetheart, don't forget that. You're never alone."

"Yeah," he murmured, clinging to her like a life-line as fresh snowflakes swirled in the freezing air around them. "I wish I was as tough as you, Mom."

"You are," she said softly, dabbing at his cheeks with her gloved hands. "You just forget to believe it sometimes. You know, speaking of sisters, you should seriously give Lily a call. You know she'd want to hear about this."

"I'll think about it," Clay murmured, bowing his head against his mother's shoulder. Not for the first time, Marie wished it was possible to turn back time and found herself praying that Logan would be able to glue his parents' broken hearts back together eventually.

**A/N: Angsty Clay always shatters my fangirl heart, enjoy everyone! xx**


	17. Departure Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn is desperate to return to her own family in Tree Hill, but Clay and Logan have a harder time leaving Raleigh behind.

Clay could feel his son's piercing stare from the safety of the porch when he slammed the Jeep's trunk on their bags a little while later. The light snowfall had been persistent for hours, but even that couldn't get a rise of excitement from the eight-year-old right now. "I don't wanna go yet," he heard Logan mumble barely audibly to Marie, who was standing with her arms protectively around him as she watched Clay prepare for departure.

"I know you don't, sweetheart," she said softly, stroking his hair as he peered up at her pitifully. "But it's what your Mom needs right now, okay? You're going to have to be a brave boy and take good care of them for a while. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Logan nodded vigorously, but before he could say a word, Clay had tugged him from his grandmother's grasp into an even tighter hug. "Stop corrupting my kid, Mom," he joked weakly. "Wolverine, do you wanna go make sure you didn't forget anything?" Clay's gaze lingered on the staircase for a moment when his son dashed out of sight, but it wasn't long before he began to pace the hallway restlessly. "Where's Quinn?"

"She probably went to the bathroom or something," Marie pointed out. The next time he reached her, she grabbed his hand firmly. "Clay, would you just stop, please? You need to calm down, honey."

"And you need to stop looking at me like that," he retorted in a pained hiss she could barely make out.

"Like what, exactly?" she pressed, refusing to release his hand.

"Like…I'll break," he said carefully. "Because if you keep up the whole Mom mode thing, I really won't be able to let go…and might just really break. That is not an option!"

"Mom mode, huh?" she echoed to hide how much the pain etched all over his face broke her heart. "Hate to break it to you, kid, but that's a default setting. You can't shut me out on-demand, try as you might."

"I know," he sighed and finally bent over her shoulders with a desperate hug. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied. "Promise you'll keep in touch better this time, alright? You know I worry about you, especially after something like this."

"Okay, I promise," he said solemnly and was still clinging to her hands when the sound of strangled wails reached them from the upper floor. "What the hell is going on up there?"

Seconds later, Logan bolted back down the stairs with wide eyes. "Dad, we have a problem, come quickly!" he urged. "Mom is completely losing it upstairs." Without waiting for further explanation, Clay pounded up the winding staircase and found Quinn kneeling in front of the bathroom door, her hunched figure trembling with suppressed sobs.

Clay's glance flickered uncomprehendingly from Sam, who was locking the bathroom firmly, to Lil, who was attempting unsuccessfully to console Quinn. "She saw the blood," Sam explained ruefully as the lock clicked after a brief struggle. "This," he said, tapping the wooden door for emphasis: "is where…it happened. I was going to lock it until we could get a cleaner in to fix it up, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Clay choked with difficulty, staring at the offending bathroom door as he crouched beside Quinn and pulled her into his arms. He stroked her back soothingly as he said the words, over and over like a chant. "It's okay…you'll be okay now." With Logan hovering sadly behind them and Sara's parents watching Quinn gasping in agony with concerned eyes, Clay couldn't help but feel this was the furthest he had been from okay in seven years.

It seemed to take an eternity for Quinn to calm down, but as Lil Kay watched Clay guiding his devastated wife back downstairs, she suddenly became aware of an impatient little hand tugging on her sleeve. "Grandma?"

"Sorry, honey, did you want something?" she asked Logan, noting with concern how worried he looked as he stared after his parents.

"Follow me," the eight-year-old urged, tugging her in the direction of his bedroom. "I…uh, I have a question," he confessed at last when he had dragged her right up to the window where the customized Christmas angel still dangled.

"Okay," Lil prompted in confusion, glancing sadly at the Jeep parked outside and ready to go. "What is it, squirt?"

Logan scraped absently at the sticky tape securing the angel to the window for a moment. "Can I keep her?" he asked finally, aiming a pleading gaze at her. "I know it's kind of silly, …but this Christmas completely sucks, and I like having Mommy close. Is that okay?"

"Of course you can," she said quickly. "That's not silly, understand? Not even a little bit." She helped him peel the rest of the tape off the glass and pressed the Christmas angel into his small hands. "Don't forget; she can always hear you."

"I know," the little boy nodded, but his eyes sparkled with deep sadness as he hugged the angel tightly to his chest. "That's why I need her right now. Nana said I have to take care of Mom and Dad…but I honestly don't know how to make this better. I mean, Mom doesn't like me anymore, and it's just –,"

"That's enough," Lil interrupted her grandson's distraught babbling firmly and wrapped her arms tightly around his shaking figure. "Listen to me, this whole thing is horrible, but that doesn't make your parents any less responsible for you. You are an amazing kid, and just having you around will help them, I promise. What your Nana meant was…,"

"That she's worried too, that's all," a raspy voice cut across Lil's reassuring speech, and she reluctantly released Logan to turn around. Clay was leaning in the doorway of Logan's bedroom, observing the two of them through suspiciously red-rimmed eyes. "Sorry to interrupt, but we should hit the road in a minute. Do you have everything, Wolverine?"

"I do now," Logan said softly, returning his grandmother's encouraging smile as he held the angel up for Clay to see. "Mommy's coming home with us…kind of."

"That's great," said Clay brightly, the most pained smile Lil had ever seen plastered across his face as he stared at the photograph of Sara and her sister stitched to the angel's chest space. He beckoned Logan over to him and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "You know you don't have to take what Nana said literally, right? She's just worried because she's my Mom, okay? It's always going to be my job to take care of you, not the other way around."

"I don't mind the other way around sometimes," Logan told him honestly. "I just wish I could make Mom smile, you know?"

"Yeah," Clay sighed, hugging the little boy close to him. "She'll get there eventually squirt; it's just going to take a while. You can just make me smile in the meantime."

"I can?" Logan asked skeptically, peering up at him in disbelief. "You honestly mean that?"

"Dude, are you calling me a liar?" Clay shot back in mock-defense. "You can, you do, and you always have, oh sunshine of mine."

"No touching the hair," Logan grinned, ducking out of his father's reach just in time to avoid it. Backing away from Clay, the eight-year-old collided suddenly with Lil and grimaced apologetically at her. "Oops, sorry Grandma," he said quickly, but then frowned in confusion at her misty brown eyes, so like his. "Are you crying?"

"No," the old woman lied thickly, rubbing her eyes as she perched on the edge of his bed and tugged Logan onto her lap. "Sara used to call him her sunshine," she reminded Clay affectionately as he sat down beside her on top of the dark blue bedspread.

"Yeah, she did," he nodded reminiscently, but then fell silent and merely squeezed Logan's fingers as the little boy curled into his grandmother's embrace.

"How was the cemetery visit today?" Lil ventured hesitantly, and Clay flinched visibly at the subject.

"It looked pretty good for this time of year," he said evasively. "I mean lots of snow, obviously, but it was, um…"

"That wasn't the question, sweetie, and you know it," Lil interrupted the rambling with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder, and Clay let out a shuddering gasp.

"Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly, feeling his face flush as he turned to face her knowing gaze. "It's been seven years, and that's still the place I run to when…everything falls apart. Sara always knew just what to say to fix any insecurity or sadness. I guess I still miss that."

"Is it very selfish of me to be slightly glad you would miss that?" Lil mused out loud with an overwhelmingly sympathetic smile, and Clay shook his head slowly. Logan sat up straighter on Lil's lap and watched the exchange with interest as his grandmother continued. "Not to state the obvious, but Sara was my baby girl, you know," she pointed out. "Whatever magic advice she produced probably originated in this house; think about that for a minute." Logan giggled at her words, and she gave him an affectionate squeeze while Clay pondered that logic. "What kind of advice are you looking for?"

"I don't know," Clay shrugged helplessly. "How to get through this loss? How to make Quinn feel better? All sorts, I guess…" he trailed off vaguely. "The proof is in how badly I dealt with losing Sara. One day, she just wasn't there to knock sense into me anymore," he said darkly.

Frowning at the despair in his every word, Lil gave Logan a little nudge. "Could you get up for a second, baby?" When the eight-year-old had scrambled obligingly to his feet, Lil stood up and offered Clay her hand. "You come with me," she demanded firmly and led the way across the landing to the master bedroom. Sam was standing in front of the mirror, hanging on one wall, running a comb through his hair. Logan lurched towards his grandfather while Lil dragged Clay over to the massive cupboard opposite and cracked open the left-hand door slightly. After rummaging through a messy pile of scarves for a moment, she finally extracted a medium-sized wooden box with a little latch holding it shut. "Here we go," she said softly, turning to Clay, who was hovering curiously behind her. "I found this when I was clearing out some old things the other day and thought it would make a good Christmas gift. Since you're not staying, I suppose there's no time like the present, is there?"

"You know I'd stay if I could," Clay sighed, taking the box carefully from her. "What is this anyway?"

"Open it," she said mysteriously. "Call it an early Christmas present if you like." Logan had wriggled across the expanse of the king-size bed in the middle of the room and was bouncing up and down in anticipation by the time Clay's shaking fingers flipped the box's fiddly latch open. When he finally lifted the engraved dark wood lid, it was to find two old photographs of him and Sara, scaled to fit side by side in a customized plastic frame. Three-dimensional letters made of wood formed very familiar words on three sides of the rectangular frame: integrity, character, and heart. "That's what I think Sara would tell you if she were here right now," Lil said gently, watching him trace the raised letters carefully with one finger. "You and Quinn will get through this with the love you have for each other guiding the way. That's who you are, honey, no loss can change that wonderful heart of yours. Believe that, and you'll be fine."

Clay handed the box and photo frame to Logan before drawing Lil into a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you," he whispered, surreptitiously wiping his eyes as she patted him fondly on the back. "I guess you were right about the origins of brilliant advice."

"I won't say I told you so," Lil told him, a knowing smile on her face as she moved towards the bed where Sam was sitting with Logan, both examining the photographs. "Gosh, we'll miss this little nugget so much."

"That is so cool," Logan beamed, squeezing his grandmother's hand affectionately even though the photographs had most of his attention. "What was going on there?"

"Your incredibly dorky parents practically had a food fight with the wedding cake, such a waste," Lil told him, smiling up at Clay's sheepish expression as he joined the trio in poring over the photo frame.

"That depends on your definition of waste," Clay smirked, gazing fondly at the left half of the frame. It showed Clay and Sara standing in front of their wedding buffet, each with a piece of the creamy wedding cake in their poised fists and both laughing hysterically. "It was a blast; you probably have my college roomie to thank for that shot."

"Mommy looks so pretty," Logan said in awe, staring at the loose blonde curls framing Sara's expression of pure joy as she aimed her cake at Clay.

"Gorgeous," Clay agreed softly. "But she was a terrible shot, in case you were wondering. You can bet that the cake ended up on the floor."

"Waste," Lil sighed again, shaking her head at the defiance of youth. "At least your best man's photography reflexes were impressive; it's a sweet picture."

"I like the other one even better," Logan said, shifting his wondrous gaze to the photo on the right. "I'm kind of in it."

"Yes, you are," Clay said proudly. "That was the day we finished decorating your nursery. I did most of the painting before even letting your Mommy see it. But she asked your grandfather to paint your name on the wall. I guess it was her way of approving of the name Logan for you. It was one of the greatest surprises of my life."

"Grandpa did that?" Logan gasped, staring past the twenty-four-year-old version of his father delicately twirling Sara around in visible excitement. On the sky-blue wall, just above the crib, was his name spelled out in large letters shaped like fluffy white clouds. "It's awesome!"

Clay smiled at his son's enthusiasm, but before he could say another word, the bedroom door creaked open. His mother was standing in the doorway, gripping Quinn's arm so firmly she may have been the only thing keeping his wife on her feet. Logan clung to one of Sam and Lil's aged hands each, as he wriggled to his feet with a guilty grimace. Clay quickly shut the lid of the wooden box on the treasured photographs, to avoid meeting Marie's compassionate gaze.

Quinn stumbled unsteadily towards him, the dark shadows around her bright blue eyes becoming more prominent than ever, the closer she came to him. "Hey…l know it must be difficult for you to let go right now," she said hoarsely, nuzzling against his shoulder wearily. "I don't want to be the bitch that drags you away from your family right now; I swear I don't! But can we please go back to Tree Hill now?" By the end of her pleading speech, Quinn's voice was choked with tears once more. "I just really need to go home."

"She just said a swear," Logan whispered to Clay, placing one of his small hands against Quinn's back.

Sam and Lil had joined his mother near the bedroom door, forming an unbearable wall of parental sympathy with their worried gazes. Clay avoided looking at them as Quinn's grip on him grew tighter and more desperate. "I'm so sorry, Q," he breathed. "You're right; let's go home."

**A/N This chapter was slow progress, but I do love the family fluff aspect, enjoy all! xx**


	18. Highway To Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The strain that the miscarriage put on Quinn and Logan's relationship becomes apparent on the drive back to Tree Hill. On a job in Charlotte, Kevin learns that Melissa and Bobby have met with an accident.

"Home sweet home," said Clay dismally when he had parked the Jeep in front of his childhood home to drop Marie off.

His mother glanced at the house with a grimace, and then returned her worried gaze to his pale face. "Are you sure you won't stay, sweetheart?" she suggested hopefully.

"I can't," he said softly, staring intently into the rearview mirror to avoid looking at her. In the reflection, he could see that Quinn and Logan were both asleep already. Her head pressed against the window, and one arm draped loosely around the eight-year-old lying sprawled across the rest of the back seat with his head on her knees. "It's time to go home; you know that's the only way."

"Promise me you'll call your sister," she begged. "I'll be checking in with her to find out if you called, you can be sure of that."

"Seriously?" Clay groaned and rolled his eyes at her. "Mom, I can take care of myself, okay?" He reached towards the back seat and gave Logan a gentle nudge. "Wake up, Wolverine; it's time to put your seatbelt on."

"Mm-hmm," the sleepy eight-year-old mumbled. But as soon as Logan opened his eyes, he jerked upright as rapidly as if he had been electrocuted, shifting quickly away from Quinn. When she didn't stir, the boy let out an audible sigh of relief and looked up at his father. "Is it time for Nana to go?" he asked sadly.

"I'm afraid so, ducky," Marie sighed and reached back to pull him towards her. "Come here and give me a kiss."

When his mother had exchanged a series of fleeting Eskimo kisses with Logan, Clay raised his eyebrows at his son. "Care to explain why you jerked up so fast back there? Since when does your Mom bite?" The little boy tried to shrink back in his seat, but Clay grabbed his hand and held on tightly. "Come on, you can tell me."

Frowning slightly, Logan reached under his seat and pulled out the Christmas angel Lil had let him keep. Hugging it close to his chest, he said softly: "I'm just giving her space…she said she's not my Mom this morning."

Clay exchanged a worried look with his mother; the disappointment in his son's voice was like a punch to the gut. "Logan…I told you she didn't mean that, squirt. Hey, I love you, okay? And she does too, I promise you."

"But it still hurt," Logan pointed out miserably and then fell silent and stared out the window. "Can we please go home now so she'll be happy again? She said Aunt Haley could fix this."

"Oh God," Clay hissed through gritted teeth so that his son wouldn't hear. His head bowed so low that it was almost grazing the steering wheel until Marie gripped his shoulders firmly. "Could you tell me one more time this is all going to turn out okay?" he pleaded wearily. "Because that doesn't feel remotely possible right now."

"You can take care of yourself, baby," she said gently. "I've always known that. If you must know, Logan's the one whose coping worries me. Healing from this tragedy is going to be difficult, naturally, but I have complete faith in you, alright? Just remember you can call me anytime you want. You're all going to be okay, as long as you remember to have patience and a little faith." When she finally pressed a goodbye kiss to his forehead, Clay hugged her so tightly it was as if he was gathering positive energy to face the weeks and months to come. "I love you," she whispered, carefully shutting the passenger side door behind her, and then it was time to let go.

_Two hours later_

When Quinn finally stirred, the radio that had been blaring for the better part of their drive was silent, and she found herself alone in the Jeep. Looking out her window, she realized that the car was stationary at a rest stop. Even as she tried to determine where exactly they were, she saw Clay and Logan emerging from the convenience store across the parking lot. The locks chirped mechanically when Clay's car keys were within range, and Quinn watched him in concern as he nudged Logan into the back seat once more and placed their bag of snacks on the passenger seat. "Hey," she said faintly, painfully aware that Logan had once again positioned himself as far away from her as the backseat allowed. "You look wiped out, babe."

"Running on caffeine," he said simply, raising the steaming paper cup in her direction before handing her the second one from the cup-holder. "I got you one, just in case…uh, wasn't sure if it was still taboo or not after what happened this morning."

"Thanks," she said and took it gingerly from him as if the cup itself could hurt her more than the events of the weekend already had. "That's beside the point," she pointed out then, snapping her gaze back to his tired eyes. "How far are we from Tree Hill now? I can take over, you know, it is technically my car. You look like a zombie or something."

"Zombies are cool," Logan interrupted the exchange, leaning towards the front seat to grab a packet of chips. "They get to eat all kinds of brains. It's gross sometimes, but I think they must be insanely smart."

"I don't think zombies are all that smart, pal," Clay told him doubtfully. "Brains are all they think about, but that doesn't make them intelligent."

"And they move pretty slowly," Quinn chipped in, glancing sideways at their son in the hope that he wouldn't react badly to her input. "Not scary unless they can catch you, don't you think?"

Logan's hand froze halfway to his mouth with a handful of chips. Quinn met his hopeful gaze over the rim of her coffee cup as she took a hesitant sip of the drink. "Yeah," he admitted slowly. "That's a good point; they are kind of slow."

"And not very smart," Quinn repeated firmly, sharing a tiny smile with Logan before glancing meaningfully at Clay again; "A little bit like your Dad right now."

"Hey!" Clay protested, glaring half-heartedly at her through the rearview mirror. "There's no need to be nasty, Q. You don't see me insulting Shutterbug, do you?"

"Well, I kind of hope Sergio would have more sense than you do, Clay. The coffee doesn't seem to have made any difference. Have you seen your face? Please just let me take over," she begged, the light teasing tone falling away to give way to desperation.

"No," he said irritably. "I'm fine, okay? You have more than enough problems to fix back there." He forced a tense smile back onto his face at the sight of Logan's nervous gaze. "We'll be home before you know it, just relax."

A little while later back in Atlanta, the sound of shuffling footsteps on her carpeted bedroom floor roused Amy Miller from a blissful sleep. "Amy," whined her sister's grating voice, holding out her vibrating cell phone to her. "Shut this thing up, would you? I'm hungover, and it freaking hurts my head."

"It's not even ringing, dumbass," Amy pointed out, still half-asleep as she took in her younger sister's tottering figure standing at the foot of the bed. "You shouldn't be drinking so much that a little vibration hurts. Were you out that late again?"

"That's how I roll." Patricia Miller's grin was unapologetic as she steadied herself, clinging to the bedpost with one hand. Her other arm was still holding the now silent cell phone out to Amy. "But seriously," she added; "it's been vibrating non-stop, something's up with this thing."

"Sure it is," Amy groaned and sat up, reluctantly taking the phone from her sister. Blinking blearily, she managed to bring the display into focus and grimaced at the ten missed calls flashing on the screen. "What the hell?"

"Told you so," the younger girl said triumphantly, flopping onto her back at the foot of Amy's bed. "It just wouldn't quit, I tell you."

"Patty, shush," Amy hissed, holding the phone up to her ear as soon as she pressed the dial button. Every single one of the calls had come from the clinic; something wasn't right.

The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity before Amy heard her co-worker Charlotte's voice, sounding hassled and frantic. "Amy, thank God! We've been trying to reach you for ages."

"Slow down, Charlie," Amy told her. "What's going on that's so desperate? I was working all day yesterday; nothing seemed so out of the ordinary to me."

"Maybe it wasn't a few hours ago, but it is now," Charlotte insisted. "You know how we let certain patients watch TV during the lunch break?"

"Yeah," Amy said impatiently. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm not sure, that's the thing," the blonde said, and Amy could picture her youthful face frowning in confusion. "The news was on, and there was a report of a car crash on the outskirts of Tree Hill. The only thing I know is that Katie Ryan is going completely mental over here. I'm seriously worried she's going to break out of this joint in a sec if we don't manage to restrain her, it's crazy!"

"Crap," Amy muttered, tossing aside her blankets with one hand and leaping out of bed. "That explains a lot; I was with her last night when she had a bit of a meltdown about not helping her sister escape an abusive husband."

"See, this is the point," Charlotte said. "You know a lot more about the situation than anyone here; people like Katie tend to trust you with this stuff. She's babbling non-stop, but it's not making any sense to anyone. You need to get back down here, Amy!"

"I'm on my way," Amy promised, grimacing at her sister, who was still standing at the foot of her bed and ogling unhelpfully. "Do you think she'll talk to me? Maybe I can get her to calm down over the phone. I have a pretty good idea of what she's babbling already."

"Worth a shot," Charlotte said with audible skepticism.

There were a few moments of muffled background noise, and then Amy heard heavy breathing and slightly choked sobs on the other end of the line. "Katie, is that you?" she asked softly. At the murmured affirmative, she continued: "I need you to calm down and try to breathe for me, okay? I'm on my way back to the clinic; everything's going to be okay."

"Kevin can't get to my family before I do," her patient said shrilly. "I promised to keep him safe; I promised…oh God, Bobby!"

The gasping breaths resumed, and Amy grimaced as she charged into the living room to find her car keys. "I know," she said soothingly; "it's going to be okay, Katie, I…" But at the scene playing on the television Patty had switched on in the living room she couldn't help but fall silent in awe-struck horror.

"Amy, are you still there?" Charlotte's voice asked urgently, apparently having taken the phone back from Katie.

"Yeah, I'm on my way, okay? Don't let Katie leave!" the redhead said quickly, then ended the call and paced towards her sister. "Oh, dear God, this is bad."

"Ya think?" Patty said sarcastically, turning the volume up, so the sound of blaring ambulance sirens filled their living room. "Looks like a total mess. Why do they think you can fix this?"

"I thought you were hungover, missy," Amy said, rolling her eyes without answering the question. "It'll take too long to explain; I have to go." With that, she left Patty, staring transfixed at the chaos of the news report, and charged out the door.

Kevin was packing up his things at the police headquarters in Charlotte when his local boss came rushing in as fast as his vast bulk would allow. "Shame that guy got away," he said without looking up. "Back to the dull routine of Tree Hill policing I go, I suppose."

"Riley," his boss gasped, leaning against the sturdy desk to catch his breath. "You have got to get a look at the TV out there right now!"

"What?" Kevin frowned at the balding man pointing urgently towards the front room. "What are you on about, Joe?"

"Did your wife ever answer the phone earlier?" Joe asked, leading the way towards the entrance hall, where the station had a wall-mounted television. A group of his co-workers was gathered around it, gaping open-mouthed up at the screen. "Oh, for God's sake, you'd think they've never seen a car wreck before. Make way people!"

The crowd parted, and Kevin stared past the slim brunette reporter at the scene of the crash in horror. The words coming out of her mouth went right over his head, as he had eyes only for the familiar red Ford, now with the back end crushed into a twisted mass of metal. The front windscreen was cracked and splattered with so much blood; it was hard to see anything else, but Kevin's keen eyesight could make out a figure slumped over the steering wheel. "She never picked up the phone," he murmured, staring at the horrific scene in a daze. "This is not possible."

"That poor kid," one of his female co-workers said sympathetically, and Kevin's gaze shifted for the first time from the wreckage to a paramedic standing off to one side of the screen. She was gently restraining a small figure with Kevin's dark hair, and when the camera angle shifted, he saw the tears streaking down Bobby's face, his mouth wide open in a scream that none of the observers at the police station could hear.

**A / N I feel so bad that it's been over a year, but this is what happens when I start writing a long story without every bit planned. Thank you to everyone still following this story, it seriously helped me keep going xx**


	19. Darkness On The Edge Of Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nurses from the mental hospital figure out that Katie has run away upon hearing of her sister's accident. Back in Tree Hill, Haley and Taylor are in the midst of Christmas baking with Jamie when Clay and Quinn arrive home broken-hearted.

Charlotte was waiting for her at the entrance to the psychiatric clinic when Amy screeched into the parking lot and stumbled hastily out of her car. "Where is she?" the redhead demanded. Her colleague grimaced in a way that made dread flood the pit of Amy's stomach. "Charlotte, out with it!"

"I only left her alone for a minute," the young blonde said defensively. "The girl was hysterical; I thought some lithium would help. It was just a minute; I swear…but when I got back to her room, she was gone."

"Gone?" Amy repeated faintly. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I'm sorry," said Charlotte, looking shaken at the unfortunate turn of events. "What do we do now?"

"Did she have any lithium with her?" asked Amy, knowing the answer from the apologetic despair in Charlotte's eyes before the younger girl shook her head. "Damn it; this day just gets better and better."

"She took her purse with her," Charlotte pointed out. "Maybe she'll have enough sense to pick some up?"

"Did she honestly seem in the right frame of mind to think of her meds?" Amy retorted, and Charlotte let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, I didn't think so." Amy closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples, feeling the dull ache of the previous evening, returning under the strain of the moment. "We have to find her." With that rather obvious statement, she took charge of the situation, sweeping past Charlotte and into the clinic to make some calls.

In Tree Hill meanwhile, Haley was standing in her busy kitchen engaged in a staring contest with Taylor. Her older sister was ignoring the icy look as she snapped her fingers over the bowl on the counter. "Jimmy Jam, get the sugar into this dough, stat!" Her nephew obligingly tipped the carefully measured sugar into the utensil and began to stir the contents. Having made sure her instructions were being followed, Taylor turned to her baby sister once more. "Is there a problem, Hales? I'd say I'm doing a decent job of getting shit done in here."

"Language, Aunt Taylor!" Jamie piped up, and his aunt ruffled his hair with a smirk, then moved around the cluttered kitchen counter and put her arm around Haley.

"Chill out, baby sis, just look at our little elf go."

"If I called him an elf, he'd chew my head off," Haley remarked with ill-disguised irritation. "What are you even doing here, Tay?"

"I already told you," said Taylor airily. "I didn't feel like spending Christmas alone, and you were the best option. Viv and J.J had family commitments, and Frank's wife thinks I'm a bad influence. Nicky likes me, but it's the first Christmas since Laura's Dad died. Of course, he had to go with her and the kids to be with her mother." She glanced around the room; "I'm shocked Quinnie's not crashing this party too, to tell you the truth. How's her little midget doing?"

"Logan is just fine," said Haley. "She's not here for the same reason. They decided to spend the holidays with Logan's grandparents in Raleigh this year."

"She's going to be the one with ten kids; I can see it now," said Taylor, and at the conviction in her voice, Haley couldn't help but laugh.

"Easy girl, let them start with one," she said, returning her gaze to Jamie's attentive measuring task. "She's so excited; it's such a joy to watch."

"Save that freaking cheesy grin for when the heart girl comes home, Hales," said Taylor, nudging her sister playfully. "You two are disgustingly sappy sometimes."

"It's Christmas," Haley retorted defensively. "Holiday cheer and babies, this year is so going to end on a high. I can feel it! You're such a buzzkill, Tay."

"Not according to my last fling, I'm not," Taylor corrected her with a mischievous grin, and Haley grimaced at her in disgust.

She grabbed a dishtowel from the counter and flung it at her sister. "Taylor! That's disgusting, not in front of my baby, please."

Taylor dodged the flying rag with ease and moved back around the counter to observe Jamie's progress with the ingredients. "I don't know about you, but I don't see any babies in this room. Mama's got some growing up to do herself, right, Jamie?"

"That's what I keep saying," the twelve-year-old sighed. "Maybe you can make that happen before you take off again. Merry Christmas, Aunt Taylor."

"You've got yourself a deal, monkey face," promised Taylor and stuck a finger in the cookie dough. Licking it experimentally, she gave Jamie a one-armed hug; "Babies can't bake this well, for one thing, Merry Christmas indeed. You would have given your Grandma a run for her money with this stuff, well done." With identical smirks, the two glanced at Haley; "Told you, the kid is great, Hales."

"As if there was ever any doubt of that, he's a Scott man." The sisters turned at the sound of Nathan's voice while Jamie began to press the cookie dough into shape. Nathan entered the kitchen holding one hand over his eyes. "Has Hurricane Taylor wrecked everything in here yet? I'm afraid to look."

"Shut up," Taylor squealed in protest. "Just you wait till Quinn comes home; we'll show you the power of James girls times three, sucker!"

"Except Quinn's not coming home for like two days," Nathan pointed out. "Think you can take me on your own, missy?" Taylor tackled him in outrage at the mocking tone, but Haley straightened up alertly and stared out the window instead.

"Help me, Haley!" Taylor gasped when Nathan began to tickle her relentlessly. "What are you staring at?"

"Guys, am I seeing things, or is that Quinn's car out there?" said Haley seriously. Nathan let go of Taylor at his wife's grave tone, and they both moved towards the window near the front door. Before any of them could reach it, the door banged open without even the courtesy doorbell clang.

"Well, this feels a little too familiar," Nathan remarked when Logan stumbled over the threshold and darted up the stairs without a word.

Haley barely heard him tell Jamie to hurry upstairs and find out what was going on. As soon as Logan let go of her hand and vanished from view, Quinn crumpled in her sister's arms. She hadn't even bothered to wear her coat before getting out of the car, but Haley didn't even flinch at her sister's icy touch. "Quinnie, what are you doing home?" asked Haley gently, exchanging a worried look with Taylor, who was wordlessly rubbing Quinn's back.

"It's gone," Quinn choked through painful sobs. "Haley, I ruined everything! I had to come home; I just had to."

"Q, you're not making any sense," Taylor told her impatiently. "What's gone?"

"The baby." Haley's head snapped up at the broken voice from the doorway. Clay was leaning against the now-closed front door looking on the verge of collapse. "She was like this all night at the hospital. I don't know what to do anymore." Haley made a face at Taylor, and the older girl obligingly tugged Quinn into her arms instead, so Haley was free to move towards Clay.

"I can't believe it," she said sadly. "Did you drive back after all that?"

"The only thing I could get out of Quinn since it happened was that only you could help her," he told her. "Haley, can she just stay here with you today, please? I swear I am this close to losing it just like her, I need a break." He held up a forefinger and thumb almost touching to illustrate his point, and Haley could see them trembling.

"I feel like I jinxed Christmas now," she sighed as Quinn's cries and Taylor's awkward attempts at comfort continued to be the only sound. "Taylor and I were just talking about how perfect this year was going to be as it ended. Come here." With those simple words, Haley had Clay returning the fiercest hug she could muster. "Thanks for getting her home. Your Mom must have hated letting go so soon; I remember how she can get."

"Right now, the feeling was mutual," he admitted shakily, rubbing his eyes when he pulled back. "To make matters worse, there was a major crash on the outskirts of town, took us forever to get off the highway." He glanced at the staircase wearily; "Where did Logan go?"

"Did something happen with him, too?" asked Haley. "He barged in here and ran upstairs without talking to anyone. I think Jamie's with him now." She turned towards the staircase for a brief moment, then eyed Clay in concern once more. "We can get him home if you like? You look shattered, go home, and get some sleep."

The hesitant relief on his face didn't escape her notice. "Are you sure?" he pressed, and Haley nodded firmly. At the reassurance, he released a shaky breath. "Thanks, Haley. Take care of my family, okay? I owe you."

"They're my family too, you goof," she pointed out, but it was easy to tell that Clay no longer had the energy to smile. "I'll do everything I can, I promise."

Clay kissed her cheek gratefully, but when he pulled the front door open to leave, Quinn stepped quickly away from Taylor. "Clay, wait!" He turned to look at her, too tired even to speak anymore, and Quinn wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Call me if you feel like talking, okay?" she begged. "I'm sorry about everything. I hope you know that."

"How is a miscarriage your fault?" By now, the pain in her eyes was testing every last ounce of his self-containment.

"I meant everything that happened after that," Quinn sighed. "You can always talk to me, okay? Please don't forget that. I love you."

He nodded stiffly, and she could sense that for right now, she was losing his attention. "Got it. I love you, too. I'll see you later, okay? Right now, I just really need to crash."

"Okay," she said softly, but watching him walk away, it felt almost as bad as the moment when the nurse had confirmed her miscarriage in Raleigh. The dread of losing more than she already had made her feel weak at the knees, and Quinn didn't object when her sisters guided her over to the living room couch. Not needing to say anything, Haley and Taylor simply sat on either side of her like pillars of the strength she no longer had.

Back at the clinic in Atlanta, Amy slammed the telephone receiver down yet again, just as Charlotte peeked into the reception office. "Any luck?" she asked timidly, fully aware that her co-worker was beyond stressed and furious with her right now.

"She could be anywhere by now," Amy groaned. "You screwed this one up big-time, Charlie. I'm getting no leads here, and she went without her meds, this is bad!"

"I might have one lead," said Charlotte carefully, wary of getting her hopes up with how the redhead was glaring at her right now. "Don't ask me how, but in the few minutes I left her alone, Katie must have got outside and managed to hotwire my car." Amy gaped at her in pure horror at the revelation. "Yeah, I know it seems like a stretch, but it's kind of…gone. Just like her, see what I mean?" The blonde shifted nervously from one foot to the other. "So should we get onto tracking my ride, or what? Do you think she could have done something like that?"

"I don't know what to think anymore," said Amy coldly. "All I know is that we have to find Katie before she hurts herself because she's out there right now with no lithium and emotional overload. Call the cops and report your car stolen, now!"

The car in question was well underway back to Tree Hill, driven by Katie, who was focusing on her route as hard as she could to avoid her mind going to very dark places. The clinic had been chilly even indoors that day, a fact she was now thankful for because it meant she was at least wearing a hoodie against both the cold weather and curious eyes. With the cotton hood raised as far up as it would go, she pushed the speed limit mercilessly, one of the last things her sister had said to her rushing to mind against her will; _"We need you, Kate."_ The phrase echoed in her head on a loop, never letting her forget her goal.

**A / N I honestly wasn't expecting to get this done, but I guess my shipper heart decided a dose of destruction was overdue. Appreciate every fave and follow as always, thanks, everyone! xx**


	20. Broken Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing how much comfort Logan takes from his Christmas angel, Jamie offers to place it on the Scott's Christmas tree for him. Kevin barges into the Tree Hill hospital looking for his family, while a friendly nurse attempts to keep Bobby's fear for his mother at bay.

While her sisters attempted to keep Quinn from falling apart any further, Jamie and Logan had retreated to his bedroom. Now, the twelve-year-old was waiting patiently for his cousin to speak, for Logan had flopped onto his back on Jamie's bed and was staring blankly into space. "What's going on, buddy?" he asked finally. "I'm not a mind-reader, you know. You kind of need to talk."

"You won't like what I'm thinking right now," Logan warned him in barely more than a whisper.

"Try me." Jamie nudged his cousin's feet out of the way and took a seat at the foot of his bed. For a while, the only sound was Chester pawing impatiently at the bars of his cage. "See, even Chester wants to know what's on your mind."

"He's cute," said Logan, barely glancing at the aging bunny. Jamie nodded and lifted Chester out of the cage onto his lap. He began to scratch the bunny's back while he waited for Logan to start talking. The eight-year-old's next words were so sudden that Jamie almost didn't catch them. "This is all my fault."

"Your fault…what?" Jamie echoed in disbelief. "You mean Aunt Quinn losing the baby?" Logan nodded mutely, looking so distraught that the first reaction Jamie could muster was to dump the bunny in his lap. "Dude, you need this guy more than I do. How in the hell is any of this your fault?"

"Don't you remember?" said Logan quaveringly, stroking Chester half-heartedly. "On my birthday, I got so freaked out about there being a new baby. That feeling never really stopped. It's like someone thought I wished for this baby to disappear, and now it's gone. It's no wonder that Mom hates me; she wanted this so much. Now it feels like Dad has to choose between her and me; it just…sucks."

"Where to even start with that?" said Jamie at long last, after taking a long moment to digest his cousin's speech. "It sucks big time, I'll give you that one, but you freaking out about this baby could not make anything happen to it. Seriously Wolverine, you can't truly believe that! Bad things happen, and it sure looks like Aunt Quinn and Uncle Clay will be very upset for a while, but you did not make this happen. Do you understand me?"

"You didn't hear her, Jamie," Logan argued, his eyes stinging with the effort it took not to cry. "She said it's not okay because she doesn't get to be a Mom now. She's my Mom, and that's not good enough for her anymore. What am I supposed to do with that?"

With that, Logan took a deep breath and reached behind him for the Christmas angel he had dropped on the pillow in his distress. "What's that you've got there?" asked Jamie, welcoming the distraction since he had no idea how to help.

"That's my Mommy and her sister," said Logan, pointing at the two smiling blondes pictured on the front of the Christmas angel's gown. "Mama Q went to the hospital while Dad and I were looking for a tree, so Grandma let me keep the angel. We use it every year at their house, but this year we couldn't get a tree for it. I don't even have real memories of my Mommy, but with this angel around, I feel…safer. Especially now, Mom is so upset, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"That gives me an idea," mused Jamie under his breath, and Logan stared at him curiously. Depositing Chester back in his cage to the bunny's dismay, Jamie pulled Logan to his feet. "Follow me and bring the angel."

The two boys stepped out onto the landing and tip-toed down the stairs for good measure. Sure enough, the first thing they saw in the living room was Taylor, who looked up at them and pressed her finger to her lips without a word. Quinn was fast asleep in her lap, and Haley was nowhere in sight. "Where's Mom?" Jamie asked in a low voice.

"Your sister summoned her," said Taylor softly, gesturing at the staircase. "What are you boys doing?"

"A good deed for Christmas," Jamie replied and led Logan over to their Christmas tree. "Lydia and I were fighting about how to decorate our tree all day," he explained, gesturing expansively at the decked-out fake pine. "I made that thing years ago," he added, pointing at the paper Christmas angel at the top of the tree. "It's seen better days, no matter how much Lydia wanted to be the one to put it at the tip."

"It's sweet," said Logan absently, staring over his shoulder at Quinn. "Hey, what are you doing?"

Jamie had grabbed the angel from his hands and was reaching for the home-made tree topper. He pulled the paper angel down and balanced Logan's treasured ornament in its place. Then he flicked on the Christmas tree's lights before turning to grin at Logan. "Well, how does that look? Your angel deserves to fly this year."

Logan gaped up at the tree in wonder for a moment. When he turned to face Jamie, his eyes were sparkling; "Are you sure about this?" he said, and Jamie nodded with a proud smile, then had the wind knocked out of him when Logan tackled him. "It's so beautiful, thank you."

"It's a lot prettier than mine," Jamie agreed, squeezing his cousin affectionately. "I hope I've made my point now. Things are sad right now, but you still have your Mommy watching over you and Aunt Quinn loves you, I just know it."

"I sure hope you're right," sighed Logan, glancing forlornly at Quinn again for a moment. Then he turned to watch the angel twinkling at the top of the tree. "Dad would love this; it's amazing."

"Why don't you show him?" Taylor suggested, and Jamie obligingly went to grab the cell phone she was holding out to him.

"Strike a pose," he told Logan, opening the camera on the phone and seeing the huge smile on his cousin's face, Jamie knew that whatever else happened, he had done a good thing this Christmas.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Kevin arrived back in Tree Hill. He barely slowed down even after getting off the highway; his urgency fueled more by anger than concern for his family. There was still plenty of available parking at New Brunswick County Hospital when the irate cop got there, and Kevin grabbed his badge for good measure as he hurried into the emergency room. Before he could reach the reception desk and demand answers from the busily typing woman, his cell phone rang, and Kevin lunged for it, half hoping it would somehow be Melissa. But no such luck, it was his partner calling from the Tree Hill police department. "Ollie, I really can't talk right now," he said by way of greeting. "That car crash reported on the edge of town around noon involved my family. I'm just getting to the hospital now."

"I heard about that, sorry, Kev," said his partner. "We can talk about the case in Charlotte later; I just thought you'd want to know that someone reported a car stolen from the loony bin in Georgia. Doesn't your sister-in-law stay there? Not jumping to conclusions or anything, but maybe she heard about the crash too."

"That's jumping to conclusions, Ollie," Kevin told him irritably. "I'll catch you later; I have to go now." With that, he hung up the call abruptly to keep up the indifferent persona, although the new information had instantly taken root. "What the fuck, crazy bitch?" And so it was with Katie on his mind that he finally dashed into the hospital.

A few floors above the detective in search of answers, a pediatric nurse was standing at the base of the MRI machine where Bobby was getting a scan done. She held on to his foot carefully with one hand, to let him know he wasn't alone. In the other, the woman clutched the broken head of a Christmas angel. She tried not to think about the look on his face when she'd pried it from his hands so they could run tests on him. At long last, the machine stopped whirring and beeping, and the little boy slid out of the tunnel and sat up slowly. "How do you feel, sweetie?" she asked gently, and he gave her a withering look. "While you were in there getting scanned, your X-rays came back. It looks like you broke your arm in the crash. It's a minor break, so you'll get a cast for a few weeks. You can get all your friends to sign it; school kids love that kind of thing."

"I'd have to have friends in the first place for that to happen," said Bobby dully, wincing when she helped him shift into a wheelchair. Before she could start pushing it towards the nurses' station, the eight-year-old reached up with his uninjured hand. "Where's my angel?"

"Right here," said the nurse and handed it to him. Then she began pushing the wheelchair, her curiosity at the mysterious, broken angel mounting. "Technically, it's the head of an angel. What happened to the rest of it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It broke," said Bobby simply, his tone suggesting that he did, mind her asking. "Everything is broken." He rubbed his eyes furiously with his working hand, the other experiencing shooting pain even though it lay still on his lap. "Where's my Mom?"

Although he couldn't see the nurse's bright green eyes shining with sympathy when she was behind the wheelchair, Bobby could picture them. Her prolonged hesitation made the dread come flooding back, and no amount of injuries was as crippling as the fear. "Your Mom got pretty banged up, sweetie," she told him carefully. "It's probably going to be a long surgery while we try and fix her." She gripped his uninjured shoulder comfortingly and added: "Don't worry; I'm sure your Dad will show up soon. That crash you were in was all over the news. Tree Hill hasn't seen an accident that crazy in a while."

Bobby shivered at her sweet and reassuring tone, the borderline panic making his next words even harder to say. "No, you don't understand. My Dad showing up is what I'm worried about happening. He just…can't!"

At that exceptionally terrified exclamation, the nurse brought the wheelchair to a halt in the middle of a long hallway and stepped around it to face Bobby just as he bent towards his knees, almost hyperventilating. "Calm down, honey, you're going to be okay," she said soothingly. "We're the best hospital in the area, and we're going to do everything we can to help your Mom, okay? Hey, just look at me." Her insistent tone made Bobby look up reluctantly, his dark eyes glazed over with tears.

The brunette was holding her pinky out to him, presumably to make the impossible promise that his mother would be alright. But rather than her finger, Bobby's gaze was drawn to the nametag on her chest. "Katie," he whispered in wonder, and the young woman followed his gaze with a smile.

"That's me," she said unnecessarily. "Katie Jennings, at your service. You're Bobby, right?" He nodded, but she misinterpreted the dazed shock on his face as some aftermath of the accident. "Alright then, speaking as your new friend, I'm telling you we're going to fix this." In her efforts to stay upbeat on his behalf, Nurse Jennings continued to remain oblivious to the memories she had triggered. Finding it less complicated to keep quiet than to argue with her optimism, Bobby squeezed the angel's head in his fist and tried not to think of his aunt's torn expression the last time he saw her. At that moment, crazy or not, there was nobody he needed more.

Back at the Scott house, the addition of his angel to Jamie's tree had cheered Logan up considerably. While Quinn slept, the two boys returned to Jamie's room and played a few rounds of the basketball video game featuring Nathan. After Jamie had defeated him spectacularly a few times, there was suddenly a gentle knock at the bedroom door, and Haley peeked in. "How are you doing, squirt?" she asked, noting the smile on Logan's face in relief. "I hope Jamie helped a little."

"More than a little," said Logan fervently. "He kind of saved my Christmas, even if Mom doesn't like me so much right now. The angel has a home now; it means a lot."

"I'm glad," said Haley fondly and gave Jamie a proud smile. "Listen, Wolverine, there's no pressure from our side, of course, but I was wondering if you're ready to head home? Your Mom has plenty of support here, but I feel kind of bad that your Dad's all by himself right now. We've all seen how he can get about shutting people out when bad things happen. Do you wanna go see if he's doing okay?"

Because Haley's words were undeniable, Logan frowned slightly and laid his controller down on the bed. Then he moved towards Haley and hugged her. "You're right. Thanks for the reminder, Aunt Haley. I promised Nana I would keep an eye on him. She wants him to talk to Aunt Lily in England; I need to make it happen somehow."

Haley kissed him on the forehead; "You'll find a way, sweetie," she said confidently. "I'm proud of you for being so brave through all this." Logan smiled awkwardly at the compliment, but Haley wasn't finished with him yet. "And just for the record, your Mom loves you so much, okay? That's never going to change, no matter what."

**A / N Two years of nothing and now two updates in a week, it feels so good even though the story hurts like hell. Enjoy all! xx**


	21. I Can Be Your Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan and Haley send Logan home to comfort his father. That turns out to be a good decision because alone in his bed, Clay finds himself lost in too many memories of times gone by to get any sleep. Together, Clay and Logan talk about Sara's influence and begin to heal.

Back at the beach house, Clay was cursing the amount of coffee it had taken to make it home in one piece. Emotionally he felt drained, but physically he found himself unable to hold still. Clay knew that the caffeine high would pass eventually, but until it did, there was no way to escape the inevitable thoughts of what this weekend had stolen from him. Finally, giving up on any hope of sleep, he began to unpack their luggage from the weekend cut short by tragedy.

Although he rifled methodically through the bags for a while, even that action came to an end when he unearthed the photo frame Lil had given him as a last-ditch attempt to salvage their devastating Christmas. Clay wandered back over to his bed and sat down, attempting to absorb the joy depicted in both moments on display in the frame. The longer his exhausted gaze held onto the mural above Logan's former nursery crib, the more vivid the memory of that day became, and Clay found his mind wandering to times long gone.

_October 2010 – Eight Years Earlier_

_It had been a day worthy of the word disastrous at the office. With the two-hour drive back to Raleigh from his Tree Hill-based employers, Clay was dwelling hard on a rookie basketball player he had failed to sign by the time he reached home. When Clay finally swept into the apartment that he shared with Sara, and deposited his keys on the peg by the door, a rustling noise from the direction of the bedrooms caught his attention. "Sara?" His heavily pregnant wife was leaning against the future nursery door when he reached down the hall. "Hey there, beautiful," he said, feeling his troubles melt away at the sight of her coy smile. "What are you doing over here? Can't get enough of the nursery since I wouldn't let you see it for so long?"_

_"Something like that, yeah," she nodded and drew as close to him as her bulging belly would allow. "It's just perfect."_

_"I'm glad you approve." The bump acted like a buffer between them, and when Clay placed his hand against it, he felt his stress and tension melt away. "How's our Wolverine today?"_

_"I think he can't wait to start kicking the world's butt," she laughed. "He squirms…a lot. How was his Dad's day?"_

_"Could have been better," Clay sighed, and as usual, something about the look in Sara's eyes compelled him to spill his guts. "I was supposed to convince this rookie basketball player to sign with us today, and I couldn't do it. I guess the real world doesn't believe much in integrity, character, and heart." He hesitated, reluctant to voice the fear his failure of the day had unleashed._

_"That's their loss then, isn't it? Someone else will believe in all those important things, I'm sure." Sara squeezed his fingers gently; "Is something else wrong?"_

_"How the hell do you that, angel?" he marveled and wrapped his arms around her expanded frame._

_"I can always tell when you're hiding something, remember?" she reminded him. "Surprises, lies, general problems, I'm just that good."_

_"Modest you are not, babe," he smiled despite himself. "It's a bit silly. I guess failing to sign this kid straight out of college today made me doubt if I'll be able to teach our kid the important things in life, you know?"_

_"Clay," she began, looking pained at the defeat in his tone, and being the cause of that dismay in her eyes just made him feel worse than he already did. "That's not going to be a problem, okay? We have a great kid on the way, I can feel it."_

_"But how do you know that?" he pressed, looking so desperate for reassurance that Sara decided there was no time like the present to reveal what she had been up to all day._

_"I just do," she said simply and took his hand before shoving the nursery door open. "Just close your eyes and come with me." Confused, Clay did as she asked and let her guide him into the nursery. "No peeking," she insisted, and he heard the plastic sheeting protecting the floors while the paint on the walls dried rustling underfoot. "Okay, stop here," Sara instructed finally, and Clay heard a strange scraping and clanging noise while his wife kept her hands pressed over his eyes. "On the count of two," she whispered in his ear, and he smiled despite the terrible day because she valued their thing so much. "One…two!"_

_With that, Sara lowered her hands, and Clay opened his eyes. Almost immediately, he felt his jaw drop in awed delight. His father-in-law was standing near the already assembled crib, and from the way it was positioned slightly crooked, Clay guessed that Sam had just shoved it back into place. "Behold the finishing touches to this lovely room," said Sam, gesturing at the wall. "And don't worry; I made sure Sara didn't handle the paint at all. You can thank her for the little paper chains on the rails of the crib, see?" The older man pointed at the decorations in question, but Clay kept gaping at the wall._

_"This is a good silence, I'm guessing?" Sara smirked, kissing his cheek to end the stunned reaction. "It looks amazing, Daddy. Thanks for your help." She smiled at the wall where the name Logan glistened in the fresh white paint on the light blue backdrop, the letters shaped like fluffy white clouds. "Do you like it?"_

_"Like it?" Clay repeated faintly. "Are you kidding me, angel? I love it! Are you serious about this?"_

_"Of course," Sara nodded. "He's our little superhero, our Logan." She placed one hand over her baby bump; "Hey Wolverine, tell Daddy you believe in him, would you?" Seconds later, she grabbed Clay's hand and placed it against her belly. "He listened to me, feel that?"_

_"Oh my God," Clay whispered, falling more in love with his wife than he ever would have believed possible when her eyes sparkled with pure adoration. "That's my Wolverine."_

_"We believe in you," said Sara simply, and he welcomed her kiss with pleasure. "You're already my hero, Clay. In a few weeks, you'll be his, too, you'll see." Overcome with love and excitement, Clay lifted his wife slightly off her feet and twirled carefully in a circle. He was only distantly aware that Sam had snapped a picture of the moment, for right then, nothing else mattered but the woman about to give him the most precious gift in the world._

The chime of the doorbell wrenched Clay from his thoughts, and he reluctantly laid the frame aside and went to answer it. Nathan stood on the doorstep with his hands on Logan's shoulders. "Special delivery," he said, smiling at the stunned look on Clay's face. "Why is this surprising? You know how Haley is once she puts her mind to something. You didn't honestly think we'd leave you to mope around all by yourself, did you?"

"I guess not," Clay murmured, opening his arms for a hug from Logan. "Thanks for bringing him home, Nate. How's Quinn doing?"

"She was asleep when I left," Nathan told him. "It's always surprising seeing Taylor open to cuddles, but the girls are taking good care of her. Haley just thought you could use Logan's company, at least, so here we are. Are you okay?"

"I've been better," Clay admitted. He squeezed Logan when he noticed the eight-year-old staring up at him in concern. "Life lesson for you, Wolverine: Don't drink coffee unless you need to stay awake."

"Caffeine high, huh?" Nathan grimaced sympathetically. "At least now you have company till it ends. Get some sleep soon, okay? You look terrible."

"Thanks a lot, man," Clay muttered, and Nathan shrugged and patted his shoulder.

"Call us whenever you feel like talking like Quinn said. We'll be thinking of you."

"I will," Clay promised solemnly and shut the door when Nathan moved back towards his car and left them alone. "Did you have fun with Jamie, kid?"

"Yeah, he always helps." Logan already looked slightly happier than when Clay had left him at the Scott house. "He let me put Mommy and Aunt Izzie's angel on their Christmas tree because we never got one. Did you see the picture?"

"I did. That was nice of him. Did having it up on the tree help?"

"I think it did," said Logan seriously. "I told Jamie that I feel safer having the angel around. Is that weird?"

"If it is, then we can be weird together because I agree one hundred percent," Clay told him. "Your Mommy had that effect on people. Whenever things looked hopeless, she could make you believe with a single look or touch that everything was going to be okay."

"That sounds awesome. I think even the Christmas angel has that effect for me." His son's awe and amazement whenever he talked about Sara never ceased, and today it made Clay feel guiltier than ever. "So, what were you doing if you couldn't sleep this whole time?"

They had reached the master bedroom while they were exchanging news, and Clay pointed at the photo frame he had abandoned on the bed. "I was thinking about you to tell you the truth. You and the day your Mommy surprised me with the name on your nursery wall." He sank onto the bed and picked up the frame again. Logan leaned against his shoulder to stare at the pictures, and the warmth of his small body took Clay back to how feeling the baby kick had been so calming. "The day she surprised me with the nursery decoration, I'd messed up some stuff at work pretty badly. I was worried that I would screw up once you were born. Your Mommy just told me that I was already her hero, and I would be yours too." Logan was watching him with wide eyes, at a loss for words. His father kept talking, almost as if he was berating himself instead of just telling a story. "I used to tell your Mommy that she would only be my favorite person on the planet until you were born. When the day came she called you my new best friend, you know. I told myself I would never let you down if I could help it. That didn't even last a year."

"Dad, it's okay," said Logan softly. "It was hard, but having five years living with Grandma and Grandpa, I got to know more about Mommy too. I told you I forgive you, remember?"

"Yeah, but I didn't deserve it," said Clay bitterly. "Maybe losing this baby is my punishment for walking out on you. I'm just so sorry I broke my promise never to abandon you."

"I don't know much about how babies work, but Jamie did tell me that what happened to this one is nobody's fault," Logan pointed out. "I'm with Mommy on this one."

"What do you mean?" Clay frowned in confusion, and Logan made him put the frame aside so that he could clamber onto his father's lap.

"I mean, she was right," said Logan simply. "You are my hero. Every Wolverine out there deserves such an awesome Gambit." He looked up and grinned mischievously at the disbelieving look on Clay's face. "Our Jean Grey is miserable right now, but she'll come around, and everything's going to be okay."

"You truly are my son," said Clay proudly.

"Well, duh," the eight-year-old giggled but turned solemn almost at once. "I think you're just beating yourself up because you haven't slept enough."

"When did you get so smart?" Clay sighed and squeezed the little boy tightly. "I'm never letting you go again, I swear."

"Well, that's good." Logan wriggled off his knees and pulled back the bedcovers. "Uncle Nathan was right; you look terrible. Come on, get in already."

"Dude, who's the parent here again?" Clay laughed but did as he said anyway. He shifted into the middle of the bed when Logan perched at the edge. "Hey kid, will you stay here, please? It helps; you are such a little superhero."

"Sure, I just need a second to get something. I'll be right back," said Logan quickly and ran across the hall to his bedroom after scrambling off the bed. In minutes he returned, hugging a wooden photo frame to his chest. "I left our angel on top of Jamie's tree," he explained. "She can look out for Mom over there, and we can keep this one here. We need her."

He placed the photograph of Sara that shared its frame with a small snapshot of his first visit to the beach with Clay and Quinn on the headboard. Clay stared up at it and felt a knot of despair, tightening in his chest at the many happy smiles in the two pictures taken years apart. "We do," he agreed faintly, and when Logan slipped obligingly under the covers with him, he clung to his son as if his life depended on it. "I'm so glad you're here, kid."

"Till kingdom come," promised Logan. "That's your vow to Mom, right?"

"That's right," Clay nodded shakily. It was taking energy that he barely had not to fall apart by now. "And hers too, I just hope she remembers that soon. Our family is pretty great already."

"She will," said Logan, and in his exhaustion, Clay was glad for the child-like faith. "She has to." The eight-year-old kept gazing at his mother's picture long after Clay fell asleep, praying for the strength to keep their family together like he had promised his grandmother he would.

**A / N And I'm back with fluffy Clara to contrast the angst of the present; next update will probably focus on the OC side of things. Enjoy all! xx**


	22. The Blame Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Kevin confronts Katie at the hospital, the combination of anger and fear triggers a memory of the day she witnessed Melissa give birth to Bobby.

Despite the medication she had given Bobby to help calm him down, Nurse Katie Jennings stayed glued to the eight-year-old's side until his anxiety wore him out. Her caring nature aside, she had to admit his terror made her curious as to what could be so awful about the boy's father. Even in a drug-induced sleep, there was a troubled air about the child's face, and something about him stirred a protective instinct in her. Bobby's pleas to not let the man he so visibly feared near his mother were still tugging at the kindly nurse's heartstrings when one of her colleagues peeked into the darkened room. "Katie, there's family here to talk about the kid. Can you take this?"

"Bobby," she corrected her co-worker tersely, watching the boy's uninjured fingers twitch uneasily in his sleep. "Yeah, I'll be right there."  
Determined to help the little boy, Nurse Jennings swept out into the hallway wondering if she was about to meet the police officer Bobby so feared or the aunt he believed was his last hope. The answer, it turned out, was both at once. Just outside Bobby's room, a dark-haired detective resembling the boy and a shorter but no less intimidating brunette were glaring daggers at each other. Nurse Katie pressed herself against the wall when the furious duo failed to notice her and just watched the power struggle that Bobby had warned her about unfold.

"What the fuck are you doing here, you crazy bitch?" the man snarled, and his tone made Nurse Jennings shiver, but Bobby's aunt held his icy glare with equal ferocity. "Shouldn't you be going back to the loony bin where you belong?"

"Me?" Katie's enraged scowl was full of loathing as she stared the detective down. "That's rich, Riley. You should seriously try that place out sometime. No sane person would treat their family the way you treat my sister. This is the last straw, do you hear me? If you ever hurt her again, I'll…"

"You'll what?" said Kevin mockingly. "You've already got the obsessive stalker shooting strike against you, Katie-Cat. Anything you do will put you away for good, and you know it. I look forward to that day; we don't need your crazy in this family. It's your fault Lissa was on the road today, and you know it!"

"You don't give a shit about her, you bastard," Katie hissed, but Nurse Jennings had seen the fire in her deep blue eyes dim at the detective's last accusation. "She has always deserved so much better than you!"

"She's my wife," Kevin sneered; "You'd be welcome to take the little brat off our hands if she didn't love him so much. Then again, nobody would let a nutcase like you keep a kid anyway, would they?"

"Shut up," she snapped; "Shut up, shut up!" Katie whipped around and covered her eyes, desperate not to let the man she hated most in the world see her cry.

"With pleasure, now that's settled, I'm going to sit with my wife," said Kevin smugly and walked away with a triumphant grimace. Nurse Jennings watched the brunette's fists shuddering at her sides, a painful combination of rage and defeat colliding in her eyes. When she stepped towards the trembling woman, the pediatric nurse had a strange feeling that this Katie, who her patient had spoken so highly of, was facing massive demons of her own.

_September 2005 – Thirteen Years Earlier_

_Seventeen-year-old Katie could feel the judgmental glances being thrown her way by the passing nursing staff and families of the patients. The occasional one would be sympathetic, but the young brunette couldn't bring herself to care either way. The gauze pad stemming the flow of blood from a cut on her cheek was itchy, and Katie forced herself to focus on the beat of her tennis ball thudding against the pristine tiled floors instead. Logically she knew that her father's anger towards her stemmed from fear for her mother's life, but the suffocating guilt made it hard to believe. Her shaking fist clenched tighter around the sturdy ball as she tried to will the fury in his deep brown eyes from her mind._

_"Kate!" A terrified voice wrenched Katie from her thoughts and still squeezing her tennis ball hard, the teenager looked up to see her older sister Melissa hurtling towards her. The twenty-year-old was attending an art college in Savannah, and though Katie had lost all track of time, she guessed her sister had made the journey home as soon as the bad news reached her. "What happened?" Her sister sounded frantic, but for a moment, Katie could only draw on the love and concern in the eyes just like their father's._

_As a little girl, Katie's hair had been strawberry-blonde like their mother's and with deep blue eyes to boot she had by all accounts been Lisa Ryan's mini-clone. Her wavy locks had darkened with age, but in many ways, she was still a lot like her mother. That thought, combined with the guilt forced out words Katie hadn't planned when Melissa sat down beside her against the sickly-green painted wall. "Dad hates me…this is my fault."_

_"Did Mom crash?" asked her sister faintly, and Katie gave a shuddering nod and pressed her head against Melissa's shoulder. "Oh, God, no."_

_"I was fighting with her," said the teenager in a muffled voice. "I wanted new tennis shoes, and she was getting impatient and didn't see the red light. Dad's right, this is completely my fault!"_

_"No," repeated Melissa under her breath, and Katie couldn't tell if she was in denial or disagreeing with the guilt trip. She got her answer when her sister forced her to look up, and tormented blue eyes met warm hazel ones. "Kate, Dad's probably just really freaked out right now. It's going to be okay."_

_"You don't know that," Katie mumbled doubtfully. "Mel, you can't leave me alone with him again! Dad's only looked at me once since we got here, and even then, it was with so much rage. You didn't see how awful it was!" Melissa clutched her sister's shaking hand tightly, taking in every chip in the pearly pink polish on her rounded fingernails._

_"I have to go back to college eventually, sweetie," she said softly, and even though it was just a fact, she found herself wishing there was another way. "I love you, Katie-Cat. I'm always, always on your side, okay? I'll make sure I can stay until Dad calms down if I have to." No longer trusting herself to speak at the sound of her mother's favorite nickname for her, Katie curled desperately into her sister's embrace. The pair only looked up when their father emerged from somewhere down the hall, having just spoken to the surgeon on Lisa's case._

_Katie shivered at the ill-disguised anger, still glinting in his eyes. She was glad when Melissa spoke up, sounding more scared too, despite her optimistic speech. "Daddy, what's going on?"_

_"You," Robert Ryan spluttered, looking very tall and intimidating to Katie as she cowered on the floor. "You just killed your mother!"_

_"Dad," Melissa began reproachfully, but her father had already turned back towards the room where the doctors had taken their mother's body. He walked away, leaving a cloud of dense grief in his wake, and in her horrified daze, Melissa barely felt Katie's hand slip from her grasp. By the time she scrambled to her feet, the sobbing teenager had gone running in the opposite direction. The moment Lisa's heart stopped beating, an irreparable rift formed in their family, and it would only grow with time._

Katie flinched when a gentle hand squeezed her shoulder and took a deep breath before turning around. "Excuse me, are you Katie Ryan?" She found herself face to face with a worried-looking nurse and nodded stiffly. "I'm Nurse Jennings; I've been taking care of Bobby. He's been talking about you for ages. I feel like we know each other already."

As if her nephew's name was some kind of magic word, the dazed misery on Katie's face transformed instantly into a fully alert expression of urgency. "How is he?" she demanded. "Kevin's not going to let me anywhere near my sister as long as he's here. I can't let him hurt Bobby again!"

"He's pretty terrified," said Nurse Jennings honestly. "I was only watching your little showdown with his father for a few minutes, but it was enough to understand why." She shook her head in disgust; "Some people should not be parents, and I'm not talking about you, believe me."

"Thank you for protecting him," said Katie seriously. "If I had just listened to my sister when she asked me for help, neither of them would be here right now."

Nurse Jennings put a firm arm around her trembling shoulders. "There's no point at all in feeling guilty about the past now. Why don't you just come with me and sit with him? I'm sure it'll help when he wakes up to find you there; he seems to worship you from what I've heard. At one point, he calmed down just because he saw that my name is Katie too. The most extreme reaction I've ever had, I can tell you that much."

"Wait," said Katie, pulling the nurse to a sudden halt at the door of Bobby's room. She stared urgently into the medical professional's piercing green eyes. "Will you try and find out how my sister is, please? I didn't want to bring that up in front of Bobby, just in case…" she trailed off, shivering in dread and Nurse Jennings understood. "Melissa and I lost our Mom in a car crash when I was seventeen, and my Dad never stopped blaming me for the rest of his life." Katie turned away and squeezed the doorknob to stop her hand from shaking. "I know I promised her I could keep Bobby safe, but I need her! That's the truth; I need her to be okay."

"It's hard to call Bobby particularly lucky right now, but I do think he's fortunate to have you," the nurse said soothingly. Instinct told her it was what Katie needed to hear before the force of Kevin's hatred, and her self-doubt swallowed her whole. "I'll find out about your sister as soon as I can, I promise. I'm sure one of my co-workers in the trauma department will know something. What's her name?"

"Probably Melissa Riley, I guess," said Katie bitterly. "Bobby kept her maiden name because technically speaking; he was born just before that jerkface back there married my sister. And then Kevin made no secret of how he doesn't care about the kid at all, so here we are. God, why am I even telling you all this?"

"It seems like something you've been holding in for a while," said Nurse Jennings thoughtfully. "Sometimes, it helps to just get everything out in the open."

"Maybe," sighed Bobby's aunt, finally twisting the doorknob before her boosted courage failed her again. "Thanks for your help. I should get in there."

"Good idea." Nurse Jennings smiled at her encouragingly. "I'll be back as soon as I know more, good luck."

When the door to Bobby's room clicked shut behind Katie, the pediatric nurse made her way to the trauma center of the hospital in search of more information on Melissa's condition. Everything she had learned about Kevin gave her an uneasy feeling about the fact that he had a considerable head start in that department. Before she could find any of the trauma surgeons, she passed the nurses' station and was hailed by the same co-worker who had told her about Katie and Kevin's arrival. "What's up, Jan?" she asked the troubled-looking blonde. "Did someone die on you?"

"No," said Janet, shaking her head slowly. "I just had a call from a Nurse Amy Miller at the psychiatric clinic in Atlanta. She said one of their residents broke out without permission, and they're calling all the hospitals in the area to keep an eye out for her."

"That's not good," frowned Nurse Jennings. "Did it sound like we've seen this patient to you?"

"We sure have." The look on Janet's face filled Nurse Jennings with a dreadful sense of foreboding. "It's the aunt of your car crash kid, Bobby. Did Katie Ryan seem crazy to you?"

"Bobby's Dad certainly seemed to think so," said Nurse Jennings, feeling slightly sick at the revelation. "From what I witnessed earlier, his temper is more dangerous than anything Katie Ryan would do."

"We're still obligated to keep an eye on her," Janet pointed out regretfully. "She's technically a fugitive now, who knows what she's capable of?"

Katie Jennings only half-heard her co-worker's concern; her heart was too heavy with Bobby's distress to absorb any more bad news. "That poor kid is in way deeper than any eight-year-old should be," she murmured. "Look, Jan; we can worry about Katie later, okay? Right now, I need to go find out about his Mom, I promised…twice!" Before Janet could say another word, she turned and continued on her quest for an update about Melissa's fate. No possibly crazy woman or raging cop would stop her from putting the desperate kid first.

**A / N As usual, with the pure OC chapters, I'm not so sure about this one. But it did kind of start to stir up sympathy for Katie, who I hate in canon for making Clinn suffer. Anyway, enjoy everyone, and thanks for any feedback! xx**


	23. There You'll Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay wakes up to find that Logan has taken the initiative to call his older sister Lily in England. Meanwhile, Quinn spends time with her sisters, but she can't stop beating herself up for breaking Logan's heart.

When Clay woke up, Logan was gone, although the sheets were still warm on his side of the bed. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and glanced around the bedroom. Nothing about the room itself had changed since they left for Raleigh, but Sara's picture drew his gaze practically subconsciously. In the candid shot, she sat curled up in a garden deckchair, gazing into the distance with a thoughtful glint in her sparkling brown eyes. This particular framed snapshot was a blown-up version of just that expression, which constantly reminded Clay of how he'd always felt she could solve any of his problems.

"Time travel would be great right about now, angel," he sighed, stroking the glass shielding the photograph with a single finger. "Everything's a mess." Suddenly he heard Logan's voice drifting across the hall from his bedroom and got up to investigate. "What are you up to, Wolverine?" he asked, peering into his son's room. The eight-year-old sat on his bed with Clay's laptop balanced on his knees. "The cuddle wasn't good enough for you? I'm insulted." Stepping into the room, Clay suddenly realized that Logan had looked up with an entirely too guilty expression on his face. "Okay, seriously, buddy, what are you doing over here?"

"He's following Mom's orders, seeing as we both know you wouldn't have called," said a stern but caring female voice, and Clay froze.

"Oh Logan, tell me you didn't," he groaned and sat down beside his son so that he could see the computer screen.

Sure enough, his older sister Lily was giving him a pixelated grimace of sympathy. "Hi ducky," she said softly; "Logan told me everything, don't even think about getting mad at him for it. You have got to stop holding out on me, honey." The redhead smiled fondly at Logan; "You did good, kiddo. Do you think you could give me a minute alone with your Dad?" Logan obligingly blew her a kiss and walked out, looking rather proud of his initiative, Clay noticed.

When he looked into Lily's eyes on the screen, the look on her face was enough to send the control of his emotions out the window. "Please stop looking at me like that," he begged feebly, unsurprised when she shook her head. "God, Flo, how do you even do that?"

"How am I looking at you, sweets?" Lily challenged. "I don't think there's anything special about it. I can't help my face, you know."

"Your face is perfect," Clay sighed. "Your distance is the problem right now."

"The last few times I've come home have been for tragic reasons," said Lily thoughtfully. "I'm so sorry about the baby."

"Straight to the point I see. That's so you." Clay forced a deep breath around the lump swelling in his throat. "I thought that first Christmas after Sara died would be as bad as it could get. It seems this one is trying to take the cake."

Even in the blurred image, Lily could see her brother struggling not to fall apart. "It's okay to cry, ducky," she said gently. "I'm guessing you've said that to Quinn a hundred times since it happened. It's time for you to stop being so brave now. I love you."

"I wanted this baby more than anything, Flo," he said quaveringly. "I mean, it couldn't make up for abandoning Logan, but…I needed this to prove to myself that I can somehow not be a lousy father too. It's not fair."

"Of course, it's not fair," Lily agreed sadly. "But I thought you had moved past the issues with Logan? He worships you, Clay. You know that."

"He thought that Quinn getting pregnant meant we were going to replace him," Clay pointed out. "It's completely my fault he'd even get that idea. Can't argue with that one, can you?"

"I can, actually," said Lily smoothly. "Is the bedroom door open?" When Clay nodded in confusion, his sister raised her voice: "Wolverine, get back in here!"

Clay stared in amazement when Logan came bounding in as if he had been right outside the whole time. "So much for privacy," he said with a strained smile, but Logan was glancing solemnly at the computer screen.

"What's up, Aunt Lily?" he asked. "Wolverine, reporting for duty." He saluted her with a smile, and Lily giggled affectionately.

"I have a mission for you, kid," she told him, and Logan tilted his head curiously. "Give your Dad a huge big hug from me, can you do that?"

"That's it? You fail at the concept of missions, Aunt Lily. That's too easy." Lily made a face at him, and Logan glanced sideways at Clay instead. "Then again, maybe easy is a good thing." Clay was shaking as he placed the laptop next to him on the bed, leaving his knees free for Logan. "You okay, Daddy?"

"No," Clay admitted, squeezing his son hard: "but I think I will be. Just stick around, okay?"

"Dad, I'm eight," Logan reminded him. "I'm not running away tomorrow or something. I'm always here."

"This time, I will be too," Clay swore. "You never have to worry about me disappearing again, I promise."

"I wasn't worried," Logan smiled faintly. "Not anymore, anyway…I know we're going to be fine." He bit back his worries about Quinn's recent habit of lashing out, sensing that what his father needed right now was reassurance and space to be sad. He gave Lily thumbs-up behind Clay's back just before she ended the video chat with another proud smile. "I'm tougher than you think, Dad."

"Oh, I know you are," said Clay fervently. "It's myself I'm worried about, you'll just have to stay trapped right here for the rest of your life."

"You're funny," said Logan sarcastically, but where he usually would have wriggled out of the embrace, this time he stayed put. To live up to the promise he had made his grandmother, now that they had spoken to Lily, he would let Clay hang on to him as long as necessary. For a few minutes, father and son sat in silence, locked in a comforting embrace, but each lost in their thoughts. "We should tell Nana we talked to Aunt Lily," Logan suggested after a while. "You always let her worry; it's not very nice."

"Well, that's very adult of you," said Clay, hating that his son was right. "You're right; it's just hard to let her see how bad it gets sometimes. It's hard to let anyone see, for that matter."

"Dad, you can't shut everybody out this time," his son said seriously. "You know nobody's going to let that happen, right? That's why Aunt Haley reminded me to come home, you know."

"You came home to babysit me?" Clay groaned; "Now I have definitely hit rock bottom."

"You haven't, and you won't," Logan insisted. "I won't let that happen. Wolverine has healing powers, you know." Before Clay could respond, his cell phone began to vibrate where it lay abandoned in the middle of Logan's bed. The eight-year-old lunged for it before Clay could reach and picked it up quickly. "It's Mom," he said quietly and handed the phone to his father without answering it. Clay frowned as Logan walked stiffly out of the room, but answered the call anyway.

"Clay, are you there?" Quinn's voice was still hoarse from the amount of time she'd spent in tears recently; he couldn't help but notice.

"Yeah, I'm here," he said quickly. "Sorry, Logan saw the phone ringing, but when he saw it was you, he just…froze."

"I really screwed up with him," sighed Quinn. "Do you think he'll ever forgive me? You know I didn't really mean what I said in Raleigh."

"You sound like me now," Clay remarked dryly. "He seems to have forgiven me for leaving him for five years; I'm sure you'll be fine eventually." Clay spotted Logan peering into the room and watching him. Suddenly this phone call felt like a very delicate tether holding their family together. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked, consciously softening his tone. "I hope the girls helped as much as you thought they would. You know I did my best, right?"

"Honey, my needing my sisters has nothing to do with your comforting skills," Quinn told him, sounding horrified at the idea. "You were so brave last night. I'm actually just calling to make sure we're okay. I know Nathan and Haley sent Logan home, but I was worried you might still be mad at me."

"I can never be seriously mad at you, Q," he said softly. "I'm just worried about our whole family right now; it's kind of a mess."

"I'll fix things with Logan, I promise," Quinn told him solemnly. "Hey, did you talk to Lily eventually? I feel like I wrenched you away from your Mom on top of everything else, I feel awful."

"Babe, stop," he begged; "Yes, I talked to Lily, and it was as miserable as expected, but we wouldn't have stayed on in Raleigh after what happened anyway. My Mom is used to being alone and worrying about me; it's practically in her blood. Needing to leave was not your fault, okay?"

"I love you, you know that?" she whispered, and he clutched the phone a little tighter.

"I was kind of hoping," he replied, the exchange taking them back to happier times when she had been the one helping him earn Logan's trust. "We're gonna be okay, Q. Please come home soon?"

"I will," she promised. "I'm just spending some time with Lydia right now; she's so cute it helps to take my mind off everything."

"She's proving her James girl genes already then," he said, smiling faintly when Logan finally stopped spying from the doorway and came to lean against his shoulder again. "I love you, Quinn." Her pain echoed in his ears long after he hung up the call, and Clay stared into Logan's worried eyes, wondering how balance could possibly be restored to their fractured world.

Quinn came out of the Scott mansion's guest bedroom when she finished on the phone, and the first thing she saw was Taylor, stretching out luxuriously on the couch. "How's everything at home?" asked her older sister. "You totally made my lap go numb, Quinnie-Bear."

"Sorry," Quinn mumbled distractedly, turning her cell phone over and over in her hand. "Apparently, I broke your lap and my family."

"What does that mean?" Taylor frowned, getting laboriously to her feet and moving toward Quinn, who stood at the foot of the stairs to the upper floor, shaking. "Did Clay say something? Miscarriage or no, I can take him down!"

"Tay, chill out." Quinn shook her head but didn't smile at her sister's dramatic declaration. "He didn't have to say anything; I screwed up the minute I said that Logan's not my son. That's the worst thing it's possible to say to that kid, and I went and did it."

"Quinnie, come on, kids are way forgiving. I say stupid things to our nephews and nieces all the time, but they love me anyway. Didn't you even wear that power ring thing Logan gave you to the first ultrasound last week?"

Instantly Taylor knew she had said the wrong thing when tears welled up in her sister's pale blue eyes once more. "That ring used to feel like a lucky charm," Quinn told her shakily. "Clearly, the magic has worn off because I was wearing it over this weekend, and I still lost everything."

"We're still here," Taylor told her, giving Quinn a tight hug to avoid saying anything else that might set her off. She couldn't help the relieved grimace when Haley finally came out of the kitchen. "Help me out here, Hales. I always say the wrong thing."

Their youngest sister placed a soothing hand on Quinn's shoulder. "Your doctor just called me when she couldn't reach your cell. She said they got the report of the miscarriage from the Raleigh hospital, and they want to see you over there as soon as possible. It must be protocol, I suppose, inter-hospital communication and all that."

"Thanks, Hales," Quinn mumbled. "Right now, it's communication in my marriage I'm worried about; I really made a mess of things." Haley and Taylor glanced at each other resolutely for a moment, and then encircled their arms around Quinn as if their love could shield her from the torture of her own guilty conscience. They stared at the green plastic power ring dangling from the chain around her neck when she sagged into the embrace, wishing it actually had the power to keep the devastated family together.

**A/N All the angst, this may not technically be my best, but I've had kind of an anxious week, so a lot of projection went into this one. Enjoy all! xx**


	24. Something To Believe In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby wakes up from a nightmare of the car crash to find Katie at his hospital bedside. Back at Nathan and Haley's house, Quinn tries to play with Lydia to block out her grief but when Haley presents her with an heirloom as an early Christmas present, she breaks down all over again.

**Something To Believe In**

_Bobby could sense his mother getting more tense and jumpy every time her phone vibrated with an incoming call she refused to answer. He held the mobile shuddering violently in the palm of his hand, knowing they were making Kevin angrier with every ignored call but at a loss for what else to do. "Mom?" he ventured softly, and even the sound of his voice made her fingers clench tighter around the steering wheel as if the car was the only thing she had any control over anymore. "We can't keep ignoring Dad's calls. You know we'll just be even more screwed when he catches up with us." The eight-year-old trailed his fingers over the detailed facial features of the Christmas angel's head, which he was still clutching like a lifeline. He had tried to convince himself and Melissa that they would be fine without Katie's help, but seeing his mother's brave façade cracking; it was getting harder to keep that faith. It had already been a few missed calls since Melissa's passionate declaration that Bobby meant the world to her, and her son could see her courage waning by the minute. "Why don't you just answer one?"_

_"No!" snapped Melissa shortly, when what she truly wanted to say was that they were screwed either way. The headlights of other cars whizzing past them on the highway seemed like twinkling stars in the wintry mist, mocking her short temper with the illusion of other people's perfect lives. There was a hurt silence, and Melissa took a deep breath, the apology rising from her soul even faster than the irritation had. "Bobby, I-" she began regretfully, but that was all she could say before there was the shrill screech of skidding tires behind her. A sudden force rammed their little Ford's bumper so hard that the rear windshield shattered._

_It happened so fast that she didn't even have time to scream before her head slammed against the dashboard, squashing the limp airbag before it had time to inflate correctly. The force of the impact sent the car spinning out of control, and blinding pain exploded from the spot where her head had collided with the steering wheel. The last thing Melissa heard before she passed out was the crunch of metal when the passenger side of the car collided with a roadside construction barricade. Even in the shock of the crash, Melissa's arm had flung instinctively to the side to keep Bobby from slamming forward harder than she had. The last thing she felt before losing consciousness was his desperate fingers squeezing her hand, trying to keep her awake in vain._

The sound of his cries pulled Bobby from the drugged slumber, and he gradually became aware of both prickling pain in his broken arm and a gentle squeeze to his unbandaged hand that wasn't there before. "Mom?" he whispered hopefully, and the blurry figure shook her head sadly.

"Only her way less calm baby sister," said the voice he'd been longing to hear as desperately as his mother's. "Bobby…oh God, I'm so sorry."

"Aunt Katie?" he said in disbelief and then caught sight of the tell-tale pale pink nail polish that Katie liked on the shaking fingers squeezing his hand. "You came…I knew you would."

"I'm sorry I ever said no," Katie choked, feeling her guilt catch in her throat when her gaze roamed to the bruised bump on his forehead. She shifted so that he could more easily lean into her embrace. "I'm never leaving you alone with your Dad again, okay?"

"Where's Mom?" asked the eight-year-old, and the edge of panic was audible in his voice.

"I don't know, baby," she said honestly, stroking his hair gently. The nurse who had agreed to help her find Melissa hadn't returned yet, and Katie had no idea if no news was good news in this case. "Nurse Jennings must have a soft spot for you; I asked her to find your Mom for us." Unable to bear the pain in his eyes, Katie glanced at the head of the Christmas angel permanently clutched in her nephew's fist; "I can't believe you're still hanging on to that thing."

"Well, I didn't have you," said Bobby simply; "it was just something to believe in."

"Why do you have so much faith in me, kid? I'm such a mess; your Mom is the one always saving me."

"That's what I was trying to tell you at the clinic," said the boy, almost impatiently. "You save us too, you just don't see it. She's not strong enough to leave Dad on her own, and you know it."

"I guess that's true." Katie's blue eyes masked a storm of frustration at Kevin's hatred for her and the only family she had. But she shoved her anger aside when Bobby's eyes filled with tears, scared and in pain like she had never seen him before. "Do you have any idea how brave you are?" she asked him, and Bobby shook his head glumly. "I promise everything's going to be okay. I love you."

"You sound like Mom," he told her, and Katie couldn't decide whether it felt like a compliment or just painful.

"Well, I learned from the best." That was all she could say before he curled into her lap, ignoring all the pain of his injuries just to be as small as humanly possible. "We'll find her, baby. Just you wait and see."

At the Scott mansion, Quinn was sitting on the floor opposite Lydia, rolling a small ball back and forth between the boundaries formed by their legs. "Aunt Quinn, you have to push harder, I'm little," the three-year-old complained when she couldn't reach the ball for the fifth time. She shoved the ball to one side and clambered into her aunt's lap, frowning up at her dazed and miserable expression. "Are you sick?"

Quinn wiped her eyes subtly before curling her arms around her niece. "Kind of, I guess," she sighed. "You're my favorite little munchkin; you know that?"

"Does your tummy hurt?" asked Lydia, pressing a small hand to Quinn's stomach. "Mommy lets me drink Coke when my tummy hurts; otherwise, she says it's bad. Maybe you need Coke."

"I don't think Coke can fix my problem, honey," said Quinn, the words sticking in her throat at Lydia's pure innocence. "But thanks for the offer."

"What about presents?" Lydia suggested in determination. "Were you good for Santa this year? Daddy gives us early presents sometimes…I'm cute, you know."

"You're very cute indeed," Quinn agreed, and before she could say anything else, Lydia was dragging her off the floor.

"Daddy, we need early presents!" she shrieked, charging out into the living room where Logan's angel glittered at the top of their Christmas tree. Nathan was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper and didn't lay it aside fast enough to avoid his daughter crashing into his lap and crushing the paper.

"Hurricane Lydia has struck," he laughed, lifting the three-year-old onto his knees. "What's this about early presents?"

"Aunt Quinn is sick," said the toddler seriously; "presents will make it better. I said you give them out early sometimes when I'm cute. Right?"

Nathan grimaced as Quinn visibly forced a smile and carried Lydia back towards her. "That's a good idea, baby girl," he said, setting her down so that she could hurtle towards the kitchen where Haley and Taylor were making more Christmas feast preparations with Jamie. "Go tell Mommy and Aunt Taylor, okay?" Then he put an arm around Quinn's shoulders; "It would be nice if Santa could fix this, huh? You okay, Q?"

"It would," she agreed faintly, shaking her head. "God, I'm such a mess."

"If anything gives you the right to be a mess, it's a miscarriage on Christmas Eve." Nathan could see an intense combination of worry and heartache in her eyes. "I reminded Clay to come over anytime, so don't worry about that…just for the record."

"I'm scared he'll shut me out again," she whispered. "Historically, walls are a big problem for us, you know. And this time, I yelled at Logan, how are we supposed to survive on opposite sides?"

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think? Walls may be something you both struggle with, but Logan will never be a divide, silly. He trusted you before even Clay, remember?"

"I guess so," said Quinn skeptically, even though she knew Nathan was right. Today those early moments of bonding with her adoptive son were eclipsed by the more recent outburst she wasn't sure she could ever take back. "I love them, Nate…I can't lose them!"

"Nobody's losing anyone, Quinn," he insisted. "I wouldn't even have to bug that phone call with Clay earlier to bet he asked you to come home, right?"

"He did," she admitted sheepishly. "I know it sounds paranoid, I just feel…lost, right now."

"Then it's his job to find you," said Nathan simply. "The guy put insanely in love in my contract for you, don't forget that. And Logan is a kid; he'll get over whatever you said that you didn't mean in the slightest."

"Thanks," she said softly, and Nathan had her in a comforting hug when Lydia led Haley and Taylor back into the room with her boundless energy.

"Presents!" the three-year-old demanded, prodding her mother impatiently.

Taylor had already opened the closet where the wrapped gifts were stashed and eyed the choices thoughtfully. "Haley, which one of these was Quinn's present? Your three-year-old seems to think she's dying."

"Seriously, Tay?" snapped Haley when Lydia's expression crumpled at Taylor's sarcasm. "Honey, Aunt Quinnie's going to be fine, okay?" Without thinking, she pulled out the package she had wrapped for Quinn and handed it to Lydia. "Here, give her this." The toddler bounced across the room and delivered Quinn's present to her, and it wasn't until her sister was pulling off the wrapping that Haley locked eyes with Nathan and realized what a terrible mistake she had just made. "Damn it…Q, don't open that!"

But it was too late; Quinn had already popped the lid off the carefully wrapped box and clapped her hand over her mouth in disbelief. The golden hairbrush from her mother she had passed on to Haley in honor of Lydia's birth glinted up at her. "Hales," she choked; "is this for real?"

"It's yours," said her sister softly. "Someday you'll get to use it. We just thought that someday was around the corner. Oh, Quinnie, I'm sorry."

"Damn it, I can't stop," Quinn gasped, wiping her streaming eyes furiously. "I love it, Haley Bob…thank you."

"Never stop, you're the heart girl," Taylor chipped in. "And I kind of hate you for making me a softie right now." Her sisters saw Quinn trying to form a sassy retort, but instead, her hands covered her eyes in a vain attempt to hide the floods of tears.

Nathan watched Haley and Taylor surround Quinn with all the strength they had and scooped Lydia into his arms when she turned to him in dismay. "I don't think presents can fix this one, Lyddie Bug. Let's go help Jamie in the kitchen, okay?" Even with the toddler's arms around his neck, it was one of the few times that he felt helpless, and nothing could change that.

Back at New Brunswick County Hospital, Nurse Jennings was making her way back to Bobby's room with the familiar dread in her heart that came from being the bearer of bad news. She had heard Kevin and Katie raging at each other first-hand, had seen the visible love Katie had for her sister and nephew, and now Melissa's condition was critical. In medical school, she'd hated the classmates blessed with photographic memories, but tonight whether she liked it or not, she couldn't shake the image of Melissa Riley's injuries. The head injury and broken ribs from the accident were awful enough, but Nurse Jennings' trained eye had picked up the fading purple bruising on Melissa's wrists, signs of forceful violence. Katie Ryan's desperate words rang in her head, the woman's mental state was very delicate, and it was clear that her sister kept her grounded. Thinking of Detective Riley's quick temper, there was no doubt in her mind that something had to give in their situation, for the sake of Bobby's safety and his mother's life. The facts would shake their world, and with any luck, the pieces would fall back into place in a better way for everyone. The alternative was unimaginable.

**A / N Between my limited experience with three-year-olds and the OC struggles, I hope everyone enjoys this! xx**


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